Emancipation: Kiwami
by Marx Avian II
Summary: After a momentary lapse in his focus, Akira is expelled from his family and forced to serve a year of probation in Tokyo as a normal student. However, malevolent supernatural forces and a deep conspiracy threatening the world force him to once again take action against corruption. Not as a Yakuza, but as a masked member of the Phantom Thieves.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE **

* * *

Five days of torrential rain relentlessly crushing Japan. Slamming the shore lines with explosive waves, setting the urban towns awash with mud, and flooding the streets with filthy water. It was one of the worst storm surges in the year, and was responsible for many articles in the obituaries for the days to come. It was predicted nearly a week ago, but nobody was quite prepared for how severe it actually was. Even the sky was locked into eternal night, the clouds blotting out every remnant of moonlight.

Today was the third day in a week long onslaught. Niigata was thankfully one of the few large cities receiving only a fraction of the storms power. It was, of course, still soaked down to its infrastructure. When the sewers grew too bloated with trash and water, it spilled out onto the streets in mass.

Rain smacked into the sides of the tall buildings with dull dings, and shallow puddles controlled the sidewalks and roads. The wind howled through the cramped corners and paths the sprawling city created, deepening the ominous emptiness permeating the once filled streets.

Nature was in full force on the eastern continent, a cold chill cut through the near silent streets and the lone soul racing down them. The sharp rapping of shoes on the wet concrete was clear through the roaring storm, the sound of laboured breathing accompanying them as the figure rushed through the deluge.

His arms flung water as they swung to match his fervent, reckless pace. The rain and wind struck him hard, yet the figure did not slow in the slightest; only pausing every now and then to brush a soaked strand of black hair from his eyes or to reorient himself.

An alleyway appeared at the corner, and he slammed into it and took the shortcut it offered. Under the cover of darkness, he ducked and dodged under the fast swinging store signs, and slipped through and around the tight corners in the shopping district. Normally, this would be impossible. The thick throngs of people made walking a chore in the day to day of life, let alone the pace he had set. If nothing else, the storm had succeeded in aiding him to this end. With the more sane individuals taking shelter indoors, he was free to race to his heart's content.

Suddenly, he came to an abrupt halt. His shoes shrilly squealed as he slid to a stop, a flourish of water drifting into the saturated air as he finally ended his race. The boy's shoulders heaved as he stared upward at the towering structure in front of him. The complex was nestled into a particularly unassuming corner of the city, where all the buildings were closely pushed together and gave off a sense of claustrophobia. The white building sat between two other similar 400 meter buildings, its efficient architecture giving them the appearance of trees- growing into each other at the tops.

The windows of the office building shot beams of light down into the street, bathing the figure on the street. He stared upward at the building, his grey eyes locking onto the highest window. All was still for a moment as a lull in the storm formed. The endless rain eased into a slow drizzle, the wind growled lowly instead of howling. It was somehow peaceful, even if it was the farthest thing from it.

That moment was broken when the boy's hands suddenly clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles loudly popping. The storm slammed back into a frenzy, and he marched resolutely toward the glass doors of the office building.

The doors slid open silently, making way for him as he strode in and shutting just as quietly behind him. The roar of the storm dropped, now muffled behind the concrete walls. Warm air overtook the chill of the cold, the faint scent of mandarin filling the room. There was no more haste in his movements, but the dangerous tilt at the corner of his thin lips and the harsh rapping of his heels along the tiled floor were telling enough.

The area was only given a single glance. White floors, white walls, and boring furniture scattered about. A foyer no different than that of a hotel, if more clinical and stifling than one would usually be.

His arrival did not go unnoticed, two peoples heads perked up at his approach, their surprise at a visitor in the middle of such a storm was palpable. The two men all appeared Japanese, wore matching matte suits, and had their hair slicked aside like a salaryman's. Slowly they eased away from their various states of relaxation and approached the newcomer, slyly blocking off the row of elevators at the end of the foyer.

The tallest of them eyed the approaching intruder critically, eyeing him up and down. His frown deepened when he realized that it was just a kid; a high-schooler from the looks of it. Tall, but unmistakably youthful in face.

The kid wore a charcoal black suit, open, over a partially buttoned white shirt. His bland dress shoes were covered in scuffs and scratches, and his black slacks had mud stains all along the ankles. Normally a suit, even one so informally worn, would be out of place on someone so young, but he managed to pull it off surprisingly well- he wearing the suit, instead of the other way around.

His frizzy mess of black hair was waterlogged, clinging to his wet skin along with his soaked clothing like glue. Already puddles had begun to form where the water dripped from his body in a steady stream. The storm had not been kind to him out there, yet there was no sign of shake or shiver from the cold that no doubt clung to him.

Around his neck was a thin silver chain, and clinging to his wrist was a fancy watch that seemed to cost more than the rest of his clothing. But what caught the man's eye the most was the small, innocuous silver and red pin on the lapel of his suit.

He shook off his thoughts easily, lazily ambling to the arrival, "Hey, I get that its rough out there kiddo, but this is private property. You can't just waltz in here." The kid gave no sign that he heard him, and only continued stomping forward. The salaryman stepped to the side, preemptively blocking him. "Sorry, but this ain't a hotel. You're gonna have to turn a 180 and get your ass back in that storm before we-"

Before the man knew it, he was flat on his face on the floor. His eyes were wild and confused as he tenderly pressed a hand to his ragged cheek, and licked at the section of his lip he accidentally bit off. Spots danced across his vision, and for a moment he thought he had woken from a bad, liquor-induced dream. Wiping a hand across his nose he was shocked when it came back smeared with blood.

'_He punched me?'_ He thought numbly to himself.

Before the salaryman could even begin to recover, the kid rushed him down and delivered a powerful soccer kick directly into his ribs- folding him like a chair and launching him into the nearby reception desk hard. He bounced off the desk and rolled to the floor unconscious, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull.

"You brat!" The other man rushed toward him, slinging his fist at the kid with wild abandon for his fallen comrade. But, without missing a beat, he slipped underneath the punch and delivered his own savage strike directly into the man's stomach. His entire body locked up for a moment and his eyes flew wide as he staggered to the side and collapsed, clutching at his stomach while prostrating. A pitiful moan left his mouth as he shivered against the floor.

The lobby was once more silent. With the two incapacitated, the kid moved back toward the elevators while shaking off his hair like a dog. Jabbing the elevator button, he rotated his shoulders and cracked his knuckles a few times for good measure. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a rotating CCTV camera pointed directly at the two unconscious goons and knew that the element of surprise was no longer an option.

Then again, he wanted them to know he was coming.

The elevator doors slid open and he stepped in, pressing the button for the highest floor as he took up position in the center of the elevator. With barely even a hitch, the elevator began its ascent, an uncomfortably jolly song playing over the speakers all the while.

"...?"

The elevator crawled to a halt. The teen glanced up at the LED display and noticed that he was still a few floors under where he was supposed to be getting off. He looked back down just in time to find the elevator doors opening.

Immediately he threw himself to the side, barely dodging the suited goon that pounced into the open elevator. The man followed after him, lunging for his throat, but stopped short when the sole of the boy's loafer slammed into his chest and knocked him back into the elevator wall.

The two took a moment to recover, glaring daggers at each other before the goon lunged back into the fray with swinging fists. For once the kid grunted in pain, a wide strike slugging him along his cheek and throwing him into the wall. But he easily shook it off, pushed off the wall, and returned the favor by slamming his shoulder straight into the goon's solar plexus.

The man could only take two more punches before he frantically lunged at the kid with a strike that he easily sidestepped. Immediately, the kid snatched him by the collar of his suit and pulled him toward him and off balance.

**X**

The goon cried out as the kid tightened his grip and swung him around like a sack of rocks. Once, twice, and on the third one, the kid released him and sent him hurtling face first into the back of the elevator. There was a heavy _clang _as tender flesh met hard steel. The man groaned in anguish as he toppled backward onto the floor.

Without wasting a moment, he jabbed the '_close door'_ button on the array, and watched as the elevator doors suddenly slammed shut- catching the man's head right between them. The scream he gave out was awful, and he writhed on the ground in agony. But soon his movements stilled, and he collapsed down unconscious.

The teen fully nudged him out of the elevator with his shoe and closed the doors for good.

**X**

There were no more interruptions. The elevator climbed steadily to the top until it finally came to a gentle stop, the display showing '_floor 17'. _Stepping from the elevator, the thuggish boy examined the floor with just a small touch of interest. It wasn't much of a floor as it was more a cross-sectioned hallway. To the left a hallway stretched out to some sort of conference office, and to the right was a wide set of windows along with a staircase leading to the lower floors. Directly in front of the elevator however was a hallway that stretched down toward an innocuous door, one that he wanted in.

The teen groaned as the elevator swished shut behind him. Of course, standing between him and that goal was a veritable army of suited goons. At least six of them stood between him and his goal, and none of them looked happy to see him. They were all varying sizes, but for the most part they were heavyset and intimidating. It would only take a glance to realize that none of them were the law-abiding citizens that belonged in a diet building like this.

"End of the line, bastard." all pretenses of diplomacy were gone. The crowd of angry men edged closer, with the sound of cracking knuckles. Some even hefted menacing looking bats and clubs. "We're gonna mess you up so bad."

He didn't have time for this.

"Let's get this over with," the teen scowled before throwing himself into the fray.

* * *

With a heavy slam the door burst open, an unconscious henchman flopping to the ground in the doorway. Stepping over the body, the teens silver eyes examined the posh office space. Rich matte walls with different and tasteful knicknacks hanging from them. Bookshelves pushed up against the wall and overflowing with file boxes and thick hardbacks. A few chairs here and there, along with a wooden table that boasted a rather impressive array of porcelain china meant to be used with tea- though from the smudged brown rings along their edges, they had seen more use with coffee than otherwise.

In the center of the room was a large desk, covered in countless files and a few high end laptops all under a stark white desk lamp. Seated behind it, the scowling face of the man he was looking for.

The man was bald, though it worked more in his favor than otherwise, and he had a short black goatee along his chin. His face was stern, creased with years of scowling that made his brown eyes seem all the more menacing. He wore a smart black suit, open and without a tie, and on the bridge of his nose were a pair of orange tinted half-frame glasses.

All in all, he gave off the image of a businessman, but that notion would be easily destroyed by looking at his eyes. There was no shred of human decency in them.

The teen glared at him from the doorway, his entire body burning with barely restrained rage. It was a rage born in true disgust. The disgust of being near someone so wholly loathsome.

**Masayoshi Shido**

**National Diet Representative**

**Cabinet Minister**

"Of all the people I expected to barge in here, beat up my staff, and bust down my door… Some gutter rat kid wasn't one of them. Who the fuck do you think you are?"

His brow furrowed.

"Nothing to say for yourself? Do you even realize what world of shit you just got yourself into, brat?!" Shido slammed a hand on his desk and stood. "You know what? I don't even want to hear your excuses. You're gonna pay for everything you damaged, you got that? I'm gonna make sure your family regrets every single second of your existence."

If he let Shido talk his piece any longer he was liable to fly off the handle. As it was, he was barely restraining himself from hopping that desk and throttling the adult.

"Masayoshi Shido. Turn yourself in."

The statement was short and to the point. Clipped without any room for confusion and delivered with a terse frown from the teen. Silence befell the room as the young man stared down the bald man with steely, unwavering eyes.

Shido blinked, "Excuse me?" He bit out, venom lacing his tone at the mere idea that a child was trying to order him around.

The still-soaked kid stepped forward and pointed a solitary finger at a phone hooked up on the desk. "The police. Call them and tell them everything you've done. All the people you've hurt, and the laws you've broken."

Shido glanced down at the phone incredulously, before narrowing his eyes and growling. "Everything I've done...? Just what do you think you're implying!?"

He just continued to stare at him. His face impassive save for the slight turn downward of his brow, belying his anger. Slowly he retracted his finger and loosely crossed his arms. He would not show weakness in front of this man, and had no trouble keeping his cool despite his anger.

The two glared at each other for a few seconds that seemed to stretch out into eternity. The room was nearly silent, except for the muted howling of the storm that continued to consume the land outside those walls.

Eventually, he broke that silence. Disappointed resignation and an edge of pain colored his words. "A man died tonight," he began, his eyes never leaving Shido's face. "Takayuki Morioshi. Does that name sound familiar?"

Shido blinked quietly before he sneered, leaning back and crossing his arms stubbornly. But it was too late, he had already seen it. He _never_ missed those tells. "Never heard of him. You're barking up the wrong tree, brat."

"You're lying, Shido. I know you're lying, because he worked for you as your secretary." He said, some small flicker of anger coloring his words. "You're lying, because you killed him."

Silence fell again. Shido sat up straight momentarily, giving him a wide-eyed stare of incredulity. It was shock chiefly… but there was also a flicker of worry in that look. It soon melted into haughty arrogance and ignorance, but he still had seen it.

_(Interesting…)_

"You really know how to piss an adult off, don't you? Me? Killing someone? What the hell are you even talking about?!"

The teenager scowled momentarily before his face returned to impassive ferocity. He was certain that Shido had killed before. He had no proof of prior deaths, but he knew a murderer when he saw one. However, he had no proof. And in this exact situation, Shido wasn't exactly lying about not killing. He had to play his cards right if he wanted to stay ahead of the older man.

"You didn't kill him directly, but there's no doubt that his death is on your hands, Shido. You _will_ turn yourself in."

"What the fuck did you just say?!"

He ignored his indignant shout and shot a glance out the window. "Two hours ago Takayuki left his home and walked out into the hurricane. One hour later, the police found him half-lodged in the grill of a truck." He lowered his head and scowled, hating the memory that surfaced. "Dead on impact."

Shido scoffed and rolled his eyes, the careless action causing the kid's hackles to raise ever so slightly. "So that moron went and walked into a car? Great. I don't see how that's my fault _or_ my problem."

"What? No love for your secretary? You're not disappointed you can't take credit for his work anymore?"

Another scathing glare, but no immediate rebuttal. He was making headway, slowly but surely.

He gestured toward the window with a tilt of his head, watching the raindrops streak by with his critical eye. "Out there is the mother of all storms. The worst that Japan has had in 30 years. Now why on earth would any self-respecting man walk out there for any reason? Especially on one of his few days off of work?"

"..."

The boy settled his eyes back on the glaring bald man. "I guess it's possible that he was going to check up on his girlfriend. Thanks to the storm, the cell lines are down. He might have gotten worried…"

"That-!"

"But that's impossible," He cut him off. "After all, his girlfriend already skipped town a week ago. Left after his boss coerced her into giving her body to him to protect her and her boyfriends jobs."

Shido's faced paled marginally, shocked to see that he knew about that. The only reason he knew about it was because Takayuki drunkenly sobbed about it when he helped drag him back into his apartment a week ago.

It sickened him then, and it sickened him now.

"Anything to say?" He probed, searching the man's snake-like eyes for any shred of humanity- any remorse.

"Sounds like a real sad story. Did your mommy tell it to you?"

A frantic, pointless jab. He wasn't exactly cornered, but he was being pressed- and he knew it. There was only one more strike to make.

"...The storm out there is bad. But even with it, it's hard not to see the lights of a truck through it. Those LED brights… They can be seen from a mile away." His arms unfolded again, restraining themselves at his sides. "So… A smart, accomplished man like Takayuki just… missed them? Without a drop of alcohol in him?"

"...No end of idiots out there." Shido scoffed once more.

**WHAM**

Shido's eyes shot wide, his chair wheeling backward as he jumped in fright. His eyes immediately locked on the trembling fist resting on top of his now cracked desk. The boy shook slightly, his fringe of hair shadowing his eyes as he stared resolutely downward.

His voice was grave. "You know what I think…? I think that it was too much. Working himself to death everyday. Living in near poverty. Getting all his recognition taken from him. Losing his girlfriend… It was just too much. He reached his boiling point and just… walked right out into the street."

"He chose death over another day living."

It was an all too common sight in Japan. There seemed to be no end of bad luck that could fall on a normal man. Bad luck that would keep striking again and again. Overworking themselves, ending up in debt, losing the things they love… and then ending it all. Every person has their breaking point, and people like Shido have no qualms about pushing them to it.

Takayuki Morioshi… A simple salaryman who lived a simple life. He himself had little connection to the man. Takayuki had provided him a futon in his apartment one day, and, despite their massive difference in age, a strong bond was forged between them. The bill of the apartment was split between them, they joked over meals of cheap sushi and cola, and they listened when the other had to vent their frustrations out.

Not best friends, not family… Just like-minded companions. Which made it all the worse when he stumbled upon the traffic-incident on his way back to the apartment that night.

"He may have taken his own life, but it was because of _you_ that he had no other choice. So… Turn yourself in, Shido."

A silence fell over the room. Neither of them said anything, they merely held their venomous glares- daring the other to flinch away. The storm continued to roar outside, bashing against the window with all the force it could muster. A clear tension began to build, winding up like a tuned string threatening to snap.

"Kid…" Shido finally spoke, his voice low and filled with unmitigated rage. "Even if you beg, there's nothing you can do to stop me from ruining your life now. I'm gonna make you wish you kept my name out of your mouth."

"But first…" Shido growled as he stood, shoving the chair behind him with the harsh movement. He stalked past the desk with slow, purposeful strides; stomping across the linoleum until he stopped at the wall- standing opposite of the boy.

"I hate arrogant brats that can't back up their egos. I'm gonna knock some respect for your betters into you."

The boy shook his head in disappointment, dislodging the final drops of water clinging to the black locks to splatter across the floor. He turned slowly on his heel, fully facing the man. The tension in the air only thickened further, now buzzing with volatile energy that hummed against his flesh- warming the skin and bringing his heart to a powerful beat.

Shido stomped a foot and took his stance: legs spaced out for stability and his arms raised up in front of him with his hands loose and open. "I'm gonna put you in a hole so deep, you'll never be able to crawl out of it again!"

**Cabinet Minister **

**Masayoshi Shido**

Cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders with loose movements, the boy entered his own stance. His right fist rising to hover close to his chin, while his left settled over his chest. The two locked eyes, Harsh brown meeting stern silver, and the tension shattered like a pane of glass being broken over a knee.

Shido made the first move, seeking to put him down hard and fast. Moving with speed that outclassed a normal persons, his foot flashed out- hooking underneath a chair and slinging it forward. The teenager ducked under it, letting it crash into the far wall and explode into splinters. Completely unprepared for the kid to react so quickly, Shido was left wide open for the wide hook that struck his cheek- knocking him askance with a spew of spit from his teeth.

There was no pause. Stepping into the blow, the teen pulled his fist back and brought the other one crashing straight into the man's sternum, pummeling the tender flesh without a mote of restraint. It was more than enough to completely evacuate the air from the man's lungs and send him staggering back a step with a face frozen in pain and shock.

The kid followed right after him, matching his retreating steps like a stalking tiger. He dropped his fists and instead brought his foot up high to check the man right on the side of the head.

Stars shot across Shido's vision as his head whipped to the side, his focus completely shattered. The leg lowered and then struck him directly in his calf in rapid succession- nearly sending him straight to the ground right then. The teen took one last step toward the retreating man, spun on his heel, and delivered a devastating side kick straight into his chest, lifting him clear off his feet and sending him careening into the wall.

Paintings and portraits clattered to the floor as Shido collapsed onto the ground, his teeth grit in agony as he clutched at his chest over the footprint there.

This kid… was far stronger than he had anticipated. Sure, he knew that he had bested his hired muscle, but seeing it first hand was a completely different experience. Although his movements were all unpolished, he moved with a confidence that belied years of experience.

But he wasn't a pushover either. Like _hell_ would he let himself get thrown around by some brat!

Pounding a fist against the floor in rage, Shido shot to his feet in an instant, his eyes burning with vexation that further creased his face into a horrible sneer. Pulling his fist back, Masayoshi flexed the muscles beneath his suit as he poured every ounce of his strength into knuckles.

Immediately the teenager crossed his arms in front of himself, widening his stance and preparing for the blow to come.

"Guh!"

For the first time, the boy's stony visage cracked with pain. The first roared straight into his crossed arms, sending a powerful crashing noise ripping through the air as more force than the boy was prepared to handle came down all at once. Even still, as his arms shook and his face tensed in disbelief, his guard held.

Then the other fist came around. There was absolutely nothing he could do to prepare for the second fist that burrowed into his shaking block like a spear. He cried out again, backpedaling from the older man as he felt as guard begin to fall apart. Then the third fist came- Shido, now grinning gleefully, was sending haymaker after haymaker raining down with reckless abandon. And, with his unprecedented strength, it was working.

That was all his guard could take. When the third fist came down his arms gave out, flopping away uselessly and leaving him wide open for the punch that pounded into his chest. The force was just as ridiculous as the last blows. His eyes dilated, spit flew from his mouth, and a pitiful gasp escaped his throat.

The teen rocketed away from the man, tripping over a couch and sprawling on the other side. His arms shook as he groggily pushed himself up, an uncomfortable tightness gripping his chest as he wheezed for air. A weaker man likely would have passed out then and there, he could at least fight through the surge of pain lancing across his arms and chest.

Sluggishly he gripped the back of the couch and pulled himself back onto his feet, scowling deeper when he saw Shido smirking arrogantly on the other side of the room.

"Had enough, brat?"

He didn't rise to the bait. Shido hit like a train, but he had only landed one blow, while he had landed multiple already. Spitting a glob of spit off to the side, he gripped the couch tighter and hopped over it.

Wearing venomous expressions, they both stepped right back into the fray. Now more prepared, the younger man wasn't going to fall prey to Shido's reckless swings again. Instead of facing the haymakers head on, he ducked and weaved through them- his superior dexterity and reflexes rendering Shido's strength useless.

With each dodge he landed his own strikes; quick jabs across the chin, kicks against his knees and chest, and hooks right across the cheek where he could make them. It was like watching a sparrow drift and dive through the intense flailing of a gorilla.

One particular hook finally knocked the man backward, a spray a blood painting the air as the skin in his mouth broke open. He staggered back two steps, staring at the blood painting his hands in absolute shock, before clenching that fist and baring his fangs like a dog.

Flinging his arms to the side, Shido roared. A primal roar that echoed through the silent office complex and nearly shook its foundation. Locking his near crazed eyes on the startled teen, Shido spread his arms out wide, lowered himself, and kicked off the ground, lunging straight for him like a missile.

_(Trying to grapple me? Like hell I'll just let you do as you please.)_

As soon as Shido's stomping steps grew near, the boy darted forward. His lithe hand gripped the man's shoulder and with acrobatic grace he leapt- somersaulting straight over the man with ease. Shock exploded across Shido's face as his target disappeared over his head. With no one to aim for his loping gait halted, awkwardly forcing him to stumble and crash over his own feet to an uncomfortable reunion with the floor.

The teen scoffed when Shido hit the floor. While the man struggled to pull himself back up, the boy stalked to the side and bent low to pick one of the chairs up by its legs. The flimsy wooden chair was light in his strong grip- cheap, but ultimately perfect for him.

Shido gave a snarl and shoved himself back to his feet. His breaths were coming out hot and heavy now, and his limbs burned with exertion. Despite being in such great shape, he had never fought for so long against someone so strong. For anyone else this would be a humbling experience.

To him, it was only infuriating.

Clenching his fists even tighter, he rounded back on the teen. ...Only to flinch in shock when he found him much closer than he anticipated, and with a chair tightly clutched in his right hand. The boy scowled at him when their eyes met.

**X**

He brought the chair high up over his head, his fists grasping white-knuckled holds on its legs while his muscles tensed. Taking in a sharp breath, the boy flexed his hands and then swung his arms downward with insane speed.

Shido didn't even have time to throw his arms up before the chair came crashing down over his head. It impacted right over his crown, the sheer force behind it making the fragile wood splinter and explode against his skull. Intense pain erupted through his body, his mind blanking out from the ruthless blow.

He crumpled to his knees, his legs giving out from underneath him as he nearly blacked out on the spot. Chips and broken bit of the chair rained down around him, clattering across the floor. He only barely resisted falling limply to the ground, but he was so woozy that he could hardly see through his bleary eyes.

As Shido kneeled in front of him, the boy stepped up to him and pulled his leg back like a soccer player lining up a shot. Just when Shido's eyes began to clear up, he brought his leg barreling upward straight into his face. His knee met the mans face with a horrible _crunch_.

His nose immediately broke under the punishing blow- blood spurting across the floor as the kid followed through with the knee, sending him flipping straight onto his back with a cry of agony. Shido clutched his twisted nose and writhed, the pain too much to bear.

**X**

Shido groaned on the floor. His hands pressed against his bruised face, disbelieving of how far this kid had pushed him. His entire body ached like one great bruise.

The teen allowed a small smirk at the state of the loathsome man, and that smirk only grew when he gave the room a tentative glance. Trashed furniture, scattered and broken items… the room was a complete wreck. Their fight had been quick and brutal- but it was obvious who had come out the better from it.

"Guh… God damnit…"

The smirk fell away as Shido continued to writhe, making no move to recover. Unfortunate. He wasn't quite done yet. Loosening his stance and cocking his head, he rested a fist on his hip.

"Is that all?" he taunted, staring down at the man as if he were a bug.

The words were enough to spurn Shido. Although he still ached, and his movements were far more sluggish than before, he grunted and pulled himself back up. The man shakily raised his fists, glaring at the boy with every ounce of hate in his body.

Normally standing after the punishment he had taken would be a feat worthy of respect. But there was no amount of respect that he could ever feel for this piece of scum. To him, Shido deserved everything he got and more.

Before Shido could even bark another curse, the teen stepped forward and drove a hook straight into his cheek. Flesh deformed, skin breaking and rippling beneath a force carrying pounds of hate and rage. Unsteady as he was, Shido flew backward. His legs struck the edge of his desk, and the man toppled over it and fell to the ground in a heap.

Just like that, the fight was over.

Silence fell over the room. The teen held his stance for a moment longer before relaxing, a soft breath leaving his mouth as he let his muscles finally ease. It had been a close fight, but ultimately Shido lacked the experience to handle him. He was likely used to letting his henchmen do his dirty work for him.

Stepping past the desk, he found the man groaning on the floor. His face was covered in bruises, and thin trails of blood slid down from his nose and a gash on his forehead where he hit the ground. Where once there was a proud, arrogant politician who was used to crushing all his opponents, now there was only a pitiful man who had been beaten into submission.

The nameless boy meanwhile was no worse for wear. He still loomed over the villain with a predatory posture and exuded that same frightening, indescribable aura. Crimson liquid dripped down from the corner of his mouth and bruises dotted his cheeks, but if he was affected by it he didn't show it.

Shido groaned as the boy crouched down and fisted his suit, dragging him up to meet his stern grey orbs. He resisted, but there was little strength left for him to fight back with.

"You… You bastard. I'll make you pay for this…"

"Are you ready to admit what you've done?" The boy glowered down on him. His sharp features only grew more intimidating now that they were in the shade of the desk- shadows streaking across his face turning his eyes from gray to a stark silver.

Shido didn't answer, only glaring back at him in defiance. Defiance that was momentarily shattered when a fist slammed against his bruised cheek, prying a cry from his lips.

"Answer me."

Shido's head rolled on his shoulders, his eyes glazing slightly as he muttered incoherently. A flash of lightning erupted over the tops of the building silhouettes outside the window. Shido's hand came up to shakily grasp the arm holding his suit, his mouth still mumbling out near-silent gibberish in a whisper.

The boy frowned at his state and leaned forward, putting his ear closer to the mans mouth. "What?"

"...I'm… Protected…"

Uneasiness filled the teens stomach at those whispered words. His head tilted in confusion as he stared at the near comatose man. "Protected? What do you mean?"

"I am…" Shido swallowed, a little bit of life bleeding back into his face. "Protected. By the Kazuya Family."

Cold ice immediately channeled down his spine. His stomach twisted, a deep unease erupting across his entire body at those simple words. The tense anger in his face evaporated in an instant to be replaced with abject confusion and worry.

He grit his teeth and shook the man, trying to regain his cool despite the bombshell. "You're lying," he hissed.

Shido grunted, and shakily reached into the pocket of his black slacks. His hand rummaged for a moment before coming back with something clutched between his thumb and forefinger. A piece of silvery metal, molded in the shape of a shield with 5 sides. It was unassuming at first glance, but the moment it hit the light a profound numbness overtook the teens body. In an instant, his cool facade broke- sheer horror overtook his face as he stared at the emblem.

Sweat slid down his cheek as he slowly reached out and took the pin from the man's hand. It was cool and heavy in his palm. When he flipped it over, he was almost certain his heart stopped. There, on the face of the pin, was an all too familiar design. A red border around its sides, and harsh striking kanji made out of red metal centered in the middle over a background of deep black.

It was the same design as the pin that was on his jacket.

The piece slipped from his numb fingers, clattering to the ground with a noise that seemed far too loud. Shido sneered up at him, pleased to watch as the teen's pupils contracted and his body shook like a leaf in a storm.

"When they find out what you did to me, they're gonna _bury _you."

The teen dropped him, letting Shido fall back to the ground as he stood ramrod straight. His entire body felt cold and hot at the same time. A fear and anxiety unlike any he had ever experienced before overtook his entire train of thought. He staggered back as if struck, his back striking and knocking over a table at the exact moment a burst of thunder echoed across the city.

He… He couldn't stay here. Already he could feel the walls closing in. With clammy hands and hasty steps, he turned tail and fled- throwing open the door and sprinting through it as if the devil himself were at his heels.

"You're a dead man! Dead!" Shido roared after him.

He ignored the elevator, instead choosing to dart down the branch of the hallway and burst through the door into the stairwell. He marched down the stairs, the sharp rap of his heels on the metal steps and his harsh desperate breaths echoed up as he descended into infernal blackness. Hot, paranoid breaths exploded from his lips with every passing floor, his heart seizing in his chest the closer and closer he got to the ground.

When he passed the final stair and tore open the door he didn't even slow down. He just ran for all his long legs were worth; rushing past the still yet unconscious men scattered across the foyer. However, his frantic pace did weaken as he neared the glass doors at the end of the room. The boy grit his teeth as he stared through the glass, watching as the storm raged on, pelting the windows with ferocious winds.

_(Under protection…) _He scowled to himself, lowering his head as he tried to think over his predicament with a cool head.

_(Why? Why would somebody like that be under protection? It doesn't make any sense! But… there's no doubt that emblem was the real deal.)_

The shield emblem, proof of a protection deal, wasn't something you could just fabricate. In fact, they were only crafted specifically when that promise is made; there was no way to attain it without express permission from the family head.

_(Why wasn't I told that he's under protection?)_

Putting people under protection is not a common practice, and it was a given that all the men in the family would be told about the protection so they didn't accidentally piss the client off. But he was never told that. Nobody ever told him that Shido, the one man he hated with every fiber of his being, was protected. Was it because it was a recent arrangement? Was he truly that unlucky?

Nothing made sense, and the more he thought about it the more anxious he became. Told or not, he had just beaten a man protected by the Kazuya family within an inch of his life. What… what was going to happen to him now?

"..."

The boy stepped forward, his legs felt leaden as he passed through the open doors. The thunderous report of the storm immediately intensified, the howling wind and beating rain returning with a vengeance. Immediately his moist suit was soaked through once more, the rain crashing against him like a mallet and running rivulets through his hair and down his face.

The city was just as dark and lifeless as before, with the flickering lights of the towers and giant screens making up the storm cloaked horizon. However, unlike before, there was one notable difference.

A single car parked on the edge of the road in front of the office complex. The engine of the sleek car hummed quietly with life, its bright headlights cutting through the curtain of rain. The raindrops obscured the tinted windows of the vehicle, hiding away whomever was inside, but the boy could not look away.

He wanted to run. Badly. But he knew he couldn't.

At once, the back door of the car opened, swinging out over the sidewalk and revealing its dry interior of luxurious leather seats. A rough looking man wearing a fine suit was seated back there, staring pointedly at the teen with his arms crossed.

The boy walked up to the car, his every step disturbing the pools of water filling the streets. He steeled himself and stooped down to slip into the car and shut the door behind him with a _bang_ that was swallowed up by the storm.

The car took off, streaking down the street and disappearing into the night.

* * *

**Kagamibashi Complex**

**Kazuya Family Offices**

The teen kneeled on the spread tatami mats, his palms flat against his thighs, his head bowed, and his damp hair clinging to the skin around his gently closed eyes. Calm, collected breaths pushed through his teeth, emptying out into the warm air like fine mist. All around him was darkness. With only a couple of dim light bulbs affixed to the ceiling, much of the room he knelt in was cloaked in shadow.

He sat in the middle of that room, tatami mats spanning out in all directions across the floor. Fine wooden walls surrounded him on all sides at the distant ends of the room, scroll paintings hung up across them depicted mesmerizing kanji and images of cliff faces bombarded by crashing waves.

Despite being barren, there was something almost regal about the room. It bore a beauty imbrued in its simplicity. A beauty that he could no longer appreciate.

"Let me see if I've got this straight. We took someone under our care... We _promised _them protection on our _honor._ And then, the very next day, one of our own busts down their front door and... _beats them_ _half to death._"

The boy flinched at the acid-laced voice, his head ducking down further as every word stabbed into him like a knife.

"...That about cover it?"

"Basically. I always figured the little shit would pull something like this one day. Hot headed kids will always be hot headed kids." An extremely deep voice spoke next, not even attempting to hide the contempt that rolled off its tongue.

The boy's gray eyes finally opened and scowled at the\ hands gripping his thighs. A mixture of anger, fear, and confusion marring his expression as he bit his lip.

"Captain," a third voice spoke up, calm and collected as it cut through the thick tension in the air. "I understand that this is going to be a major setback, and I intend to take responsibility for fixing what happened tonight."

Finally, raising his head, the teen looked up at the man standing just in front of him. He was an older man with brunette hair slicked back, a pair of rectangular rimless glasses framing his sharp, black eyes. His firm expression and hard stance belied an intelligence and wisdom beyond his years. The boy stared at the back of his teal suit, wincing when the man turned to regard him with narrowed eyes.

**Satonaka Hayama**

**Lieutenant Advisor of The Kazuya Family,**

**An Omi Alliance Subsidiary**

"Of course you will." Hayama glanced away from the anxious teen and turned back toward the front of the room, his bespectacled gaze focusing on a man seated on a chair at the opposite end of the room who's booming voice overtook the room. "It was you who brought him into the family in the first place. We've already made it clear that everything he does is your responsibility."

"In some way, this whole shitshow is on your shoulders too, Hayama." The man sneered at him, crossing his tan muscular arms over his chest as he leaned back into his chair. Long dark dreadlocks shifted with his movement, lazily draping back all the way past his neck and over his shoulder.

Much like Hayama, this man was lithe and well proportioned. However, the muscles visible along his biceps and throat beneath his grey suit were far more pronounced than the Lieutenant's were. It wasn't egregious- he wasn't overly massive like a bodybuilder was. Instead, his body seemed to achieve a perfect balance. No excess fat, no wasted tone. Like an olympic swimmer. If one were to peer beneath his suit, they would probably liken him to a greek sculpture.

If his impressive body didn't do him enough justice, then the haunting amber eyes that he stared the lieutenant down with more than covered just how truly intimidating the man was. Sharp and unyielding, on a tan face that didn't carry a single blemish. Those piercing eyes were unlike any other, and when they landed on the teen it was all he could do to resist flinching.

**Kongo Agon**

**Captain of The Kazuya Family**

**Patriarch of the Kongo Clan**

"I'm already getting a headache from this bullshit," Agon continued, shaking his head in annoyance and dislodging a dreadlock from his shoulder. "There's no way in hell me or Gao are gonna clean up your little pet project's mess."

Hayama bowed his head in deferment, though his brow did twitch at the arrogant and dismissive tone of his senior. His protege's own hackles raised at the disdain directed at him, but he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut. When he raised his head, the brunette adjusted his glasses with a quick nudge of his finger.

"Will we be notifying Patriarch Kazuya of this?"

Agon snapped to attention in utter bewilderment, "Are you fuckin high? Of course not. Bringing this kind of petty," he turned his glare on the teen shortly, "shit to his attention is just gonna cause more problems. For all he knows, this never happened, and that's how it's gonna stay."

Sweat trailed down Hayama's thin brow, a perturbed expression crossing his face. "Yes… That is probably for the best."

"And just how are you gonna handle this, Hayama?" The attention shifted away from Agon to the last man in the room, and this one was truly a sight to see.

If Hayama and Agon were built like professional athletes, then this man was built like a god. The man easily towered over the two other men in height, his entire body framed like a walking tank. Thick, bulging, corded muscle lined his entire body. His neck was thick, his arms and legs were brutish and toned to an almost rock solid level, just the same as his impressive abdominal muscles.

The mans size was almost inhuman. If he were to stand he would be a full three heads taller than even Agon was, and his beastly hand was large enough to palm a bowling ball easily.

He sat on the tatami floor carelessly, a muscular arm thrown over his knee as he lounged. His face suited his body. manly features, a strong chin nose and mouth, as if chiseled out of stone. Broad eyebrows and piercing green eyes, a row of square teeth in a far too wide grin, and a long, jagged scar spanning across his forehead. His thick black hair, voluminous and wild, was blown backward behind him like a spiky mess of quills.

For all intents and purposes, he looked like a monstrous caveman. And when his grin widened, the tension in the room only doubled.

**Sekibayashi Gao**

**Lieutenant of The Kazuya Family**

"You're awfully confident in your ability to fix this, seeing as how it's pretty much your own fault." Gao's deep, overbearing voice delivered those words no different than he would when mocking an underling. A comparison that only further incensed the brunette. "Trying to save face?"

"...Are you doubting my abilities, Gao?"

"This Shido thing can come back to bite more than your ass if it isn't handled right. That bastard is annoying, but he has something that the boss wants, and I'll be damned if he doesn't get it because of something like this."

Hayama took a long step forward, not even remotely cowed by Gao's voice and body. "I'll handle it."

"How?" Agon demanded, leaning his chin into his hand while leveling a lazy stare at the man. "I hope you understand that it's only natural for us to have doubts about your ability to make decisions now."

"I-!"

A sharp glare from Satonaka Hayama forced the teenagers voice to stop cold. The two held each other's gaze for a moment before the boy lowered his head again, worrying his lip even harder as his fingers dug into his slacks, warping the fabric.

His insides twisted like coiling snakes. He _hated_ this. Hated that Hayama, a man he looked up to and owed so much to, was forced to clean up after his own mess like this. Hated that, just because of his affiliation with the man, his mistake was considered his own. Everything about this entire situation made him sick to his stomach, and it was only made all the worse when he knew he had absolutely no one to blame but himself.

He had never felt so utterly powerless.

"Well? Hayama?" At Agon's words, the mentor turned his back on the teen and sighed in exasperation, caving in to their demands.

"It's unlikely that Shido actually knows that the one who attacked him is part of the family. He's obviously too young for that to be the first thing he thinks. I'll meet with Shido and ease his worries. Make sure that he knows we handled the issue and intend to… reimburse the damages." Likely with money straight from his own pocket.

Gao yawned brusquely and scratched at his chest, "Hmm… Sounds fine enough, I s'pose. But I don't think the baldie will believe that he's not with us. After all, he's **still** wearing our pin."

"I can just tell him that he stole it off of one of our underlings." Hayma assured, ignoring the way the kid shot a look of pure shock and disbelief at his back. "It's not too unlikely to see kids playing Yakuza these days."

"So you'll be disguising it as an unpredictable attack from some brat with a grudge? Bold of you, but given Shido's track record it's not a bad idea. Plenty of people have beef with the guy."

"He's going to want revenge." Agon spoke with surety, still looking utterly bored with the entire situation. "Getting beaten up by some kid is bound to leave a bad taste in his mouth. He'll want to know that the kid is getting punished _heavily_ for what he did."

"Like I said. I'll handle it."

Gao chortled, baring his fearsome teeth at the standing Yakuza. It was a mirthless laugh, full of all the faux charm the barbarian could muster. "You've always got things figured out, don't you?"

"One of us has to use our head," Hayama shot back, "I'm not holding my breath for you to do your share."

Gao's grin fell and he glared darkly at the teal-suited man, his hair almost seeming to bristle behind him as he bared his teeth. The beast of a man did not like being openly insulted by someone of a smaller stature than him. Hayama glared right back, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Lightning danced between the two, each of them at the very precipice of snapping and attacking the other.

"Hmph. Very well."

The two blinked, their anger fading as they turned to Agon who had finally pushed himself up out of his chair. He stretched his arms lazily, completely unaffected by just how close the other two high-ranking members had gotten to tearing each others throats out.

"I'll leave it to you. Don't disappoint me, Hayama."

With utmost respect, Hayama bowed to the man, "As you say, Captain Agon."

Agon stared at him for a moment before leisurely striding forward, the echo of his black shoes clattering against the floor filling the room. "However… There is one more thing that needs to be addressed."

"...Sir?" Hayama blinked and straightened himself up, a touch of unease crossing his face.

The tan-skinned captain passed by the lieutenant and came to a stop just in front of the kneeling boy. Cautiously, the younger man looked upward and met his impassive eyes. A deep, and overwhelming sense of foreboding immediately weighed on his shoulders.

"The situation may be handled, but I can't ignore why it even happened in the first place."

He swallowed, "Captain Agon, I-"

Whatever the boy hoped to say was immediately silenced when Agon's fist slammed into his face. In an instant, the boy was sent sprawling across the floor with a cut lip and a near-broken nose, a grunt of agony erupting from his mouth as he cupped the bruise on his face. The sheer power behind the blow left him absolutely stunned, the simple punch with no wind-up feeling more like the strike of a sledgehammer.

As he reeled in agony, the captain stomped on his leg with impunity, trapping it against the floor and eliciting another hiss of pain as his leg audibly creaked under Agon's shoe. While he writhed, Agon leaned down close to his face, making sure to press down harder on the trapped appendage as he loomed.

"There are things I can tolerate, and things I cannot. Some brat waving our flag while he does stupid, brainless shit is one of them," Agon whispered to him, his voice deceptively level. "The Kazuya family has lost face because of your disgraceful actions."

"I… I didn't know." His excuse felt weak even to him. Like a child begging for his parents to believe that a playground scuffle wasn't their fault. It was mortifying, and he felt shame stir in his chest.

A scoff, "doesn't matter. What matters is that your actions will undoubtedly reflect on us. Hayama here..." he gestured to the apprehensive man behind him with a lazy gesture, "...will fix what you've done, but how will _you_ atone?"

He couldn't answer. He didn't know _how_ to answer. Trapped under the heel of this man, it was all he could do to not avert his eyes- to hold that fearsome gaze with all he had. It was like being cornered by a lion, the instinctual fear permeating his entire body from those piercing eyes made his heart beat rapidly, and fresh sweat to trickle down his cheek.

The boy watched with bated breath as the man reached into the chest of his suit and pulled out a short wooden sheath that seemed to glisten in the pale artificial light of the room. The unassuming object had seams along the wood, colored with blackened steel that caught the eye. He recognized it in an instant. A tanto.

Hayama immediately stepped forward with a disbelieving scowl, "Agon!" he growled. "You can't be serious! He's just a kid!"

"If you sit at the big kid's table, you eat the big kids' food. If he's old enough for you to vouch for him to run with us, then he's old enough to pay for the consequences of his actions. You don't get to choose one or the other."

"Tch! Even so…!"

Agon turned his glare on Hayama, stopping the man completely in his tracks. "If you're so adamant, you can take his place. Either is fine with me."

Hayama stopped cold, disbelief in his eyes as he gaped. Slowly he gripped his hands at his sides and lowered his head, but made no further moves. Silence reigned as he stitched his mouth firmly shut and closed his eyes tightly. Even still, his fists trembled with barely restrained vitriol.

Agon chuckled and turned back to the teen, only to pause and raise an eyebrow. Despite the overwhelming pressure in the room and the perilous position he was in, the boy still managed to meet his eyes without flinching. The fear and anxiety was obvious, from the sweating hands to the trembling legs, but he didn't let any of it show on his face. Some small part of Agon felt a touch of respect at the reaction- most others he had seen would have broken down begging by now- though the much larger part simply chalked it up to a kid trying to put on a brave front.

Agon shoved the sheathed tanto forward, pressing it firmly against the teens chest as he leaned forward until his mouth was just astride his ear. He spoke softly, yet firmly. His every word impressing upon his mind and leaving behind an echoing reverberation that would ensure that he would never forget them for years to come.

"I'm gonna make you understand that one must take full responsibility for their actions..."

The room grew several times darker and colder. Agon's eyes almost seemed to glow as he stared him down. With neck creaking, the teen turned his eyes downward and stared at the sheathed blade pressed against his chest- the pressure feeling like an anvil weighing on his chest.

He felt trapped. The walls had closed in, and now he had nowhere to run. He couldn't force himself from under the overwhelming presence of his captain, he couldn't run from the fearsome stares of the lieutenants, and he couldn't hide from the mistakes he made. He couldn't escape any of it, because he brought it all upon himself. This was his comeuppance.

There was no more hiding the shakes that assaulted his hand as he reached for the tanto, no disguising the clear apprehension in his every movement. His hand curled around the weapon, feeling how cold the wood felt in his tense fingers. It was cold, yet he still felt as though he were being burned.

He shut his eyes and pulled the tanto.

Suddenly, the weapon was yanked from his grip. The boy's eyes shot wide open as he watched the yakuza captain wrench it from his hands and hold it aloft, out of his reach. Mirth danced in his eyes as the corner of his lip peaked up ever so slightly.

"...Unfortunately, I have no use for your finger."

The boy gaped as Agon stood, stepping away from his bruised leg while concealing the weapon once more. But even as he pulled back, the choking miasma of fear did not diminish in the slightest.

"If you truly wanted to repent, you'd give your finger to Patriarch Kazuya. He's the one your actions have troubled the most." Agon chuckled, uncaring of the abject disbelief on the black-haired teen's face. "However, he isn't going to know about this little trouble at all. So you're not going to go giving it to him."

Agon's smirk grew, "Aren't you happy?"

Realization came crashing down like a meteor. He never intended to make him repent like that. Agon only made a show of this to strike home one solitary fact into him: He could have _easily_ made him cut off his finger there. He wanted him to know just how helpless he was in this situation; that his very life hung in the captain's hand.

A final, overwhelmingly painful declaration of how little he actually mattered to the family. Or, at least, how little Agon felt he mattered. It was an assertion of his power, and a final kick to the boy's ego.

Agon turned his back on him with finality, turning to Hayama who appeared white as a sheet, with his teeth grit angrily- obviously understanding Agon's intentions as well.

"He's expelled from the family. Whatever you do with him now is up to you, but that is final."

The words were expected, but still ripped away at his heart. The teen lowered his head, slouching as if all life had left him.

Hayama said nothing. Gao, unruffled by what had occurred, stood to his full, incredible height, and lumbered out of the room after Agon. The door slid shut behind them, trenching the room into silence.

The two were absolutely silent. The boy pulled himself up without a word, his head hanging as he clutched his still bleeding nose. Hayama wore a pensive expression as he stared at where Agon disappeared.

At length, the boy spoke. His voice was dry and hollow, "...What happens now?"

Hayama turned, finally acknowledging him. His face was decidedly blank, revealing nothing. No disappointment, no anger, no sadness, just a blank slate.

"I'll be taking you to court in a couple days, Shido will be notified of that to appease him. When the court date comes you _will_ take the plea deal," he stressed.

Hayama had his own lawyers and jury under his payroll, this he knew. It was obvious he intended to manipulate the outcome of the case. To what end, he couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry, Hayama-aniki..."

Hayama ignored his unintentional slip. "Don't apologize now. It won't fix anything. I'll tell you more about what will be done later."

He sent him one last steely gaze, "Just don't make any more trouble for me." Like that, he was gone, striding out the door without even looking back.

The lights high above flickered for a moment, nearly giving way. Even now, the storm was still raging outside.


	2. Chapter 1-0: Zero Sum

**CHAPTER 1**

**ZERO SUM**

* * *

"_We will be arriving in… Shibuya, shortly."_

He awoke with a start, gray eyes peeling open as he jolted in his seat. A couple heads turned his way in interest, but he quickly averted his eyes and relaxed his stiff posture. The congregated businessmen and chatting schoolgirls quickly forgot about his little lapse in concentration, focusing back on their conversations or their phones.

Leaning back, he sank into the soft cushion of his seat- letting his head loll while his tired eyes drifted shut. A constant, rhythmic rumble ran through his shoes pressed against the subway car's floor.

"_This is the last stop for this line. Please transfer here for all subway lines."_

He opened his eyes again, raising a brow at the voice of the overhead intercoms. Some of the bodies around him began to move, gathering up their bags or finishing their phone calls.

_(Huh… Was I really sleeping for that long?)_

The teen sat up, rolling his neck and eliciting a couple _pops_ as he stretched. He was still a little tired, but he would really rather not get sent back down the subway line just to catch a little shut-eye. Running his palms across his plaid pants to smooth out the wrinkles, he reached into the bag leaning against his hip and pulled out a pair of glasses.

They flipped open smoothly, revealing their benign shape to his sharp eyes; the warm light filtering through the windows glinting off the clear glass. They were a simple pair of square, black rimmed glasses, unassuming and almost academic in appearance. Not exactly nerdy or gaudy, but definitely not sharp.

Even still he slipped them on smoothly, parting his frizzy, raven hair to frame around the glasses as he set them on his nose. Instantly his image changed. Keen, almost intimidating silver eyes, softened. Behind those glasses his eyes appeared normal, almost inviting in a way. Like this, he was completely indistinguishable from any of the other passing students- an unassuming, uninteresting presence that no one would give a second glance.

He pushed them up with two fingers, making sure they held. For just a moment, his eyes flashed behind those glasses- the familiar sharp glare returning alongside a furrow of his brow.

**Tetsu Akira**

**Ex-Member of The Kazuya Family**

In the next moment, it was gone, his fingers dropping away from the glasses while his expression returned to impassivity.

"What? Are you for real? A 'mental shutdown'?"

Akira glanced up, his eyes shifting toward two schoolgirls near the tram doors talking to each other without a care in the world.

"It's the truth!"

"To a person though? Come on… That's gotta be a joke!" The girl put a hand to her chest, smiling cheekily at her wildly gesticulating friend. "You really do love all that occult stuff, huh?"

The other girl pouted, before breaking into a wide grin and giggling.

Akira effectively tuned out the rest of their conversation. Cities would always be the same.

When the train finally pulled to a gentle stop at the station, Akira slipped his black bag over his shoulder before standing to his full, imposing height. The doors parted and he and the throngs of people exited out into the warm air.

* * *

**Yongen-Jaya**

**Subway Platform**

Akira's fingers tugged at his white turtleneck as he stepped out of his second subway car of the day, a vaguely uncomfortable expression crossing him. He was far more accustomed to looser, free-fitting clothing. A school uniform, especially one as bland as this one, didn't really suit him all that well.

Bustling people slipped past him as he stood there, the ongoing tide of people going to or coming from work seemingly endless. Glowing advertisements on the walls and the constant hum of voices and footsteps echoing through the underground area made themselves known. Akira watched them for a moment, soaking in the atmosphere, before slipping his hands into his pockets.

He moved past the people, eyeing the exaggerated slogans and posters as he let the escalator whisk him higher. The platform let off into a particularly busy city square, where many different stores stood and offshooting roads led even deeper into the city.

_(Tokyo… It's a lot bigger than Niigata. I'm gonna get lost at this rate)_

Make no mistake, Niigata was big and full, but it couldn't hold a candle to just how jam-packed Tokyo was. It certainly wasn't for the faint of heart either. Already he could feel the eyes that searched through the moving crowds of people- seeking out anyone who looked like a lost tourist.

He gave a small smirk as he recalled the first time he moved out of the countryside into a big city. Awestruck didn't even begin to do him justice. He had never made an easier target than he had then.

Either way, he wasn't in any hurry to get lost and cause a repeat of those embarrassing days. But he also wasn't willing to get pegged as a tourist by going around asking for directions.

Akira slipped his phone out of his pocket. It was a sleek black number, cutting edge in every way. When the screen lit up, he quickly navigated to the travel app. Just when his finger was about to press it he paused, his finger hovering just over the display while he frowned.

There, at the very bottom corner of his phone was another app. It was stark red and black against the soothing ice blue of his background, carrying the motif of some sort of piercing eye. Not only that, but it almost seemed to pulsate… thrumming with energy.

"..."

He was fairly certain apps were not supposed to do that. When did this thing get on his phone? Was it included in an update he hadn't realized went through? Or was it some sort of virus? He truly hoped not, this phone cost him more than he was willing to admit. With only a small amount of trepidation, he grabbed the app and slid it toward the bottom of his screen where it promptly dissolved into nothing.

How odd. At least it uninstalled easily. Shaking the circumstance from his mind, he popped open the travel app and quickly focused on his destination.

_(It's not too far. Just need to take a couple turns and find the residential area. It should be in the backstreets.)_

Easily memorizing the directions, he stuffed the phone away and leisurely made for his destination. Wide open space led to marginally thinner roads, stuffed to the brim with stores inches apart from each other and display signs boasting all manners of amenities. Cars and motorcycles were parked intermittently, and multiple people called out to the passing crowds- advertising cabaret clubs or delicious food.

Some things did catch his interest, but he was on a bit of a time crunch at the moment. Plus, as he was now, nobody would let him step foot into a club.

The trek was, by itself, uneventful. At this time of day there was little going on, and the streets weren't quite as claustrophobic or wild as they usually would be. He only made a single stop at a Poppo to get a can of coffee that he pocketed for later. After a couple minutes, the bright clubs, stores, and signs began to thin. Soon, apartment complexes and even homes began to come into view; the sight of a public park sequestered between a building and a pawn shop proving that he had found the right place.

The backroads were far quieter and easier on the eyes than the streets of before. In the shade of the buildings he was made aware of the almost rustic feel of the place. He relaxed himself minutely, brushing a hand over the leaves of a plant on the windowsill of a second-hand shop as he passed.

"Hey! You there!"

Akira froze in an instant. His hands balled into fists in his pockets as he turned his head to the call. There, on the corner of one of the closed shops, a police officer waved to him. He gave an annoyed grunt at the sight.

He was no stranger to being stopped arbitrarily by police. In fact, it wasn't a stretch to say that it was a very frequent thing. Cops only had to take a glance at him and his clothes to immediately mark him as some hoodlum or delinquent. Sometimes they just outright accused him of being a Yakuza.

They weren't wrong, of course, but it did get annoying at times.

"I haven't seen you around before. You a new face?"

Akira blinked behind his glasses, momentarily surprised by the normal tone. The suspicion that he was used to wasn't there at all.

_(No pat down… No threats… Is it the glasses?)_

Well, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The less attention he attracted the better.

"Yes, I'm new here," he answered cordially, his low voice making him appear even more mundane. "I'm looking for the home of… Sojiro Sakura. Do you know where it is?"

The officer rubbed his chin in thought, "Hm… directions huh? Yeah I know that place. It's just at the end of the alley back there, past the building with the stairs."

Akira nodded to him in thanks before stepping away, leaving the cop to his business. The building he sought wasn't really that far away once he came up on it, and he probably would have found it himself given time. Still, it saved him the trouble, and as he rang the buzzer he twiddled a tuft of his hair patiently.

"..." A long moment passed, and the home remained silent. Akira glanced at the nameplate again.

_(No answer… I know this is the place. Maybe he's not home?)_

Akira gave the buzzer another push, but didn't really expect anything to come from it. He cupped his chin in thought while shifting his weight to a leg, eyes shutting pensively.

Now what? He supposed he could take a seat and just wait for the man to show, but he would rather not get picked up for loitering if he could help it.

Sojiro Sakura… He knew nothing about the man. He had no cell number for him, no picture of him, hell… was he even a guy? He needed to know more.

Without a moment's hesitation, he popped open the mail slat and pulled out a couple letters addressed to the house. Yes, it was very illegal, but he didn't let it bother him. He sorted the letters, quickly reading the fronts without opening any of them.

_(Ah. Here we go. A property bill, made for a 'Leblanc'. I think I saw a Leblanc on the way here.)_

Stuffing the letters back into the mailbox, the black-haired boy retraced his steps, making sure to steer clear of the police officer along the way. Passing by a tobacco shop, he came to another end of the alleyway and found the place.

Leblanc was apparently some sort of cafe. It wasn't exactly ostentatious, but it seemed like a nice place from the outside. A chalk sign depicted some specials, and a few seats were arranged outside alongside some potted plants.

Akira smoothly stepped into the cafe, a bell chiming above the door as it opened. The insides were just as comfortable as the outside suggested, and immediately the warm smells of food and fresh coffee rushed forward. Leblanc reminded him of some of the cozier bars he had gone to.

An elderly couple slipped past him as he strode in, giving him gentle smiles that he returned with a respectful nod. The only other person present in the room was an older man leaning against the cafe counter, a newspaper loosely gripped in his hand as he read the contents. His face, slightly aged with wrinkles and a smart beard, seemed trapped between boredom and nonchalonce.

The door chimed one last time behind the kid, and the cafe manager finally looked up.

"...Oh, right. He did say that was today." Grumbling a little, the manager tossed the newspaper back onto the counter before standing up.

**Sojiro Sakura**

**Owner of Leblanc**

Sojiro eyed him up and down. "So, you're Akira?"

No doubt about it now, this was his guy. He didn't know what he was expecting, but Akira was glad Sakura seemed normal.

"I'll be in your care." Akira bowed marginally. Gao had beaten enough respect into his head that it was basically instinctual now.

Sojiro didn't seem all that impressed, only scratching at his beard lazily. "I was wondering what kind of unruly kid would show up, but you're the guy huh?" He shook his head and crossed his arms. "...The names Sojiro Sakura. Looks like you'll be in my custody for next year."

"Normally I don't make a habit of taking in delinquents under my roof." Sojiro continued, his face noticeably souring. "But I owe a favor to someone I know and… Well, it doesn't matter."

"A favor?"

Sakura ignored him, "Let's make this quick. Follow me."

The two passed through the cafe and to a wooden staircase at the end of the hall. When they climbed up it Akira had to stifle a horrid sneeze, a veritable wave of dust making itself known as he stepped fully into the second floor. Dim lights from the window paved the way as he stepped into the attic space.

The room was… cluttered, to say the least. Quite a few bags of trash and various knick knacks stacked up like some sort of storage room. Boxes and empty gas cans piled up in a corner, while forgotten books were tied into haphazard stacks on the tables and shelves. It was a pretty big space too, but by the dust coating every inch it obviously hadn't seen a broom in years.

"This is your room."

Anyone else probably would have been annoyed, but Akira simply took it in stride. He had slept in worse places after all. He avoided it if he could help it, usually, but desperate times and all that...

"How… quaint."

The cafe manager clicked his teeth, annoyed at the teenagers attitude, "Just be happy you have a place at all."

Akira made no reaction, only pressing his glasses back up his nose. As awful as the living conditions were looking, he couldn't exactly complain. He was intruding on this man's life after all, expecting him to let a criminal into his own house was a bit far-fetched.

"I'll be leaving after I lock up each day," Sojiro said. "You'll be alone at night, but you better not do anything stupid. I won't hesitate to throw you out if you break anything."

"Since you'll be living in my cafe for a year, let me see if I've got this straight... Some man bad talked a friend of yours, you went after him, got into a fight, and then you got sued. That about covering it?"

Not even close.

"..." Akira kept his mouth shut, not trusting himself to not say something dumb. Although his hands did tighten marginally at his sides.

"That's what you get for sticking your nose into an adult's business. You did injure him, yeah?" Sojiro didn't wait for him to answer, simply listing off his supposed 'crimes' with a disdainful frown. "...And now that you've got a criminal record you were expelled from your highschool. The courts ordered a transfer, and your guardian agreed. Now you're here."

"In other words, they got rid of you because you were a pain in the ass."

Some sort of flame ignited in his chest at those words, a volatile rage building up like a buzz inside his brain. He smothered it as best he could, but he could still feel it crackling in his veins. Sojiro had hit far too close to home.

"With that said, don't go causing any trouble for me while you're here. I am in the restaurant business you know? Behave yourself for the year and your probation will be lifted. If you make any trouble you'll be sent straight to juvie and I wont lift a finger to stop it."

Another discrepancy. Hayama was very clear on the court's ruling. If his probation was annulled at any point he would be tried as an adult immediately. If he was to be incarcerated, it would be in a real jail, not juvie.

"I'll be careful, Sojiro-san."

"You better…"

A tense silence befell them. Sojiro's obviously suspicious glare wasn't making him feel welcome at all, and the barbs of his words still had yet to fade. It was obvious that Sojiro didn't like him, even from the get-go he could tell. He didn't want him here at all. The question was... why would he agree to house him then?

"Get acquainted with the room. We'll be going to Shujin tomorrow to meet the staff. Its rare enough to find a school that will take someone like you…"

"Shujin…" Akira mused quietly.

Sojiro looked at him oddly, "Yeah. Shujin. The school the court ordered you to attend? Just because you're on probation doesn't mean you get to skimp out on education. Criminal or not, you'll be expected to do your part in society."

"It's not that," Akira shook his head. "I've just never been to a high-school. I've always been... homeschooled."

"Is that so…?"

During his time in the Kazuya family the older, smarter family members that had taken a shine to him would teach him some things every now and then to keep his mind sharp. Or, occasionally they would have a tutor stop by to help him brush up on some core subjects.

He wasn't exactly interested in going to school, but he obviously didn't have a choice in the matter. To be frank, he didn't have a choice in anything anymore. He just had to duck his head and do what he was told.

"Anyways. Don't cause a ruckus up here and disturb my customers" Sojiro warned him one last time before turning back to the staircase.

"Can't believe I have to waste my Sunday…" With that parting grumble, Sojiro descended back down the steps, disappearing from view.

Once the man was gone, Akira let out a tired withering sigh. He wasn't expecting a warm welcome, but this was a bit much.

Nothing he couldn't handle of course. He was no stranger to being despised by many people.

But he had never felt so… powerless. Even back when he was an errand boy, he always felt like he had control over what he did and how he did it. Now, in this new and unfamiliar city, all of that control of his life was gone. It was daunting, and he couldn't deny that it made his insides clench anxiously.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Akira dialed up one of his contacts.

On the fourth ring, there was an answer. "...Akira. It's good to hear from you. Did you find your way?"

Akira relaxed, happy to hear a familiar voice. "Yes, Hayama-aniki. Sakura-san gave me a room above his cafe."

"That old place huh? Guess that makes sense. You didn't give him a hard time, did you?"

"And risk losing my penthouse suite?" Sojiro may have been blunt and pricked at the wrong nerves, but he knew better than to mouth off to him. "No. I did not."

"...Cool headed as always, huh? Whatever. Since I've got you on the line, let me go over the rules while I have the time. I know you've heard it before, but it's important you keep this in mind."

Akira pressed the phone against his ear with a shoulder and began to clean up the room as best he could, multi-tasking with ease.

"The court's ruling is that you will stay in Tokyo and attend Shujin academy for a year of 'probation'. During that year, if any infractions are made against you, you will be tried fully for your crime. And that's _any_ infraction," Hayama stressed. "You steal something, you get picked up by the police, if Sojiro kicks you out of the cafe… that will be enough for the police to put off all bets. If you do any of that I won't protect you anymore. I'll cut ties and let the court do as they please."

Akira involuntarily shivered as he took a mop to the dirty floor. It wasn't the first time he was told, but it still made him uneasy. Just one mistake and he would be on his own…

"Furthermore, if Sojiro reports that you're missing for longer than a day or if you're delinquent from school, that'll be grounds for arrest too. Same for being expelled."

Hayama finished with a sigh, the man's age coming across the phone in his tired voice. "Basically, for the next year you need to keep your head down. Don't do anything to attract attention, don't get involved with bad crowds. Just be a _normal_ student. Do that, and you'll be fine."

"It's easier said than done."

"Bullshit. You got the glasses I gave you, right? At least with those you won't look like a Yakuza when you go to school."

Akira had nothing to say to that. Having no actual experience in a school, he couldn't be sure what to expect.

"You know the cover story too, right? Stick to it. Don't let anyone know you were part of the family. Especially not Sojiro. I barely convinced him to take you in, but if he knew you were part of the Yakuza it would be a moot point."

That brought up something that he had been wondering about…

As he set up the futon, he broached the subject, "Sojiro-san seems to know you. Do you two have history?"

"Hmm… Yeah I guess you could say that. I met Sojiro way back when I was still loansharking. We're hardly on good terms, but he owes me a favor so I managed to convince him to take you."

"What was the favor?"

Hayama's tinny voice over the speaker was contemplative, "I safeguarded something precious to him for a bit. It was a long time ago, but debts never really go away."

Akira raised a brow. How surprising. Sojiro didn't seem like the kind of guy to make deals with Yakuza. "Something precious? What, like jewelry? Money?"

"Not my place to say. I have my own standards you know. However, it was important enough to him for him to come begging for favors from a loan shark."

"I see… " He wasn't too clear on what this 'precious' thing was, but Hayama obviously deemed it something he didn't need to know. Going digging for it would probably cause more harm than good.

"If you're worrying about how much he knows, don't. Sojiro doesn't know about the Kazuya family. Right now all he thinks is that I'm an unscrupulous businessman, and that you're my younger brother who got into some trouble."

"Good to know."

If Hayama was ever bothered by his clipped, emotionless answers, he didn't show it. "Now, onto other matters. I…"

There was a sudden pause, unintelligible voices coming across the line while Akira continued to clean. When Hayama's voice returned, it was tinged with annoyance.

"Dammit. I need to let you go, Akira. We'll talk another time. Keep what I said in mind."

The line died without giving Akira a chance to say anything more. He plucked the phone from his ear and stared at his reflection in the black screen. Frowning, he stuffed the phone away and returned to his duty. With much of the cobwebs swept away and the windows dusted, the air had become just a little more breathable.

Now if only his throat didn't feel so tight.

…

Dusk had settled by the time the room was cleaned up. There was still noticeable clutter in certain corners, but he at least felt he could relax without feeling like some sort of recluse now. The floors were worn, but free of any dust or grime. The bed, now that it wasn't crowded with bags and boxes, actually looked rather comfortable.

The fan up above was lazily spinning, and strung up lights kept the room bright. Honestly, the room was really nice now. Like a cozy living room.

_(A year here doesn't look too bad anymore…)_

Akira rolled his shoulder and slipped his blazer off to drape it over the couch. Taking a seat to rest his eyes for a moment and let his mind meander his predicament once more. Hayama hadn't sent over a change of clothes yet, so he would just have to make do with the Shujin uniform for the night. Not that it really bothered him, he usually slept in his boxers anyway. However, he wasn't keen to strip just yet.

As if sensing his thoughts, Sojiro's head peeked over the railing of the stairs as he trudged up.

"Hey, I… Woah. I thought I heard you messing around up here, but I didn't really expect you to be cleaning the place up..."

"Well, I will be living here. It's only natural I'd want it clean. Would you like a tour?" Akira stood up smoothly, crossing his arms.

Sojiro merely sighed in aggravation, "...Cant believe that bastard saddled me with some cheeky brat."

"Anyway, I'm locking up for the night. You should get to bed, we'll be leaving in the morning and it'll be a pain if you end up sick just because you stayed up. You'll have to drag yourself to the doctor, are we clear?"

Did he have to be so blunt? It was obvious Sojiro didn't like his mere presence, but he could have at least pretended to not hate his guts.

"...Crystal."

Sojiro nodded absently to him then turned and exited the room. Akira remained standing where he was until he heard a distant chime and the sound of a door closing.

Any ounce of cordiality on his face evaporated in an instant. The fierce scowl of his came back as he stalked away from the stairs and sat on the bed, his back leaning wearily against the wall. His first instinct, of course, was to send something very fragile flying against the wall. But he had just cleaned the place, and he honestly didn't have it in him anymore to act out like that.

One moment was all it took to ruin his life. He wouldn't lose himself to his temper again.

With his head resting against the edge of the windowsill, he could turn his neck and gaze out the glass to see the shimmering stars of the building lights and billboards.

Part of him wanted to go out and prowl the city like he used to, but he knew he couldn't. Not only did he only have a school uniform, but if Sojiro returned and found him missing it would spell his doom. Once again, the choice was out of his hands.

With his forehead pressed against the cold glass, Akira shut his eyes and breathed deeply. Images of rainy storm clouds, venomous brown eyes, and a sheathed blade bubbling up in his mind.

Getting expelled from the family, leaving the city he grew up in… Now having to play a fake life, and attend school like a normal kid. It all felt wrong to him. Like a play that was missing acts.

Tussling his raven locks, Akira collapsed fully onto the futon— an arm and leg strewn over the side haphazardly while he stuffed his face into the pillow. If he kept thinking on this he would just keep himself awake all night. What's done is done. All that he could do now was adapt. Just like he'd been taught to.

In little time at all, he drifted off- his body finally relaxing fully for what felt like the first time in forever.

* * *

Akira jolted awake with a bang. His eyes flew open and he harshly gasped, his chest constricting and his limbs seizing violently. The air that assaulted his lungs was cold, and left him feeling like he had been dunked into an icy lake. The Ex-Yakuza member eyes wildly darted around, every ingrained instinct in his body on high alert.

Before his eyes, he was greeted by a suffocatingly dark room that was completely unrecognizable to the cozy loft he had fallen asleep in. The room was far larger than his room had been and shaped into a circle around him, the walls made up of some regal sculpted stone and what appeared to be cell doors. A thick miasma of dark mist filled the room, obfuscating his sight and only further strengthening how dark and oppressive the place felt.

Even the glaring fluorescent light hanging directly above did little to ease his nerves. Despite being so wide open, the room felt claustrophobic and suffocating.

However, what truly drew his attention was what was a good distance in front of him- a great deal of boxy, old television sets. CRT's, he believed. They were stacked atop one another or on askew tables, their blinking receiver sets beneath them and their cords stretching off into the darkness.

The screens of the CRT's themselves were a mess. Most of them only boasted a mess of static that undulated without any particular pattern. Others were just flat out dead, their screens black and unresponsive. But some of them had images on them. They flickered, as if running on lacking power, shifting between random people, objects, and places he couldn't recognize. The dizzying sight made his head throb.

There was one TV that stood out from the others. It was closer than the rest, off at his side where had to turn his neck to get a good look at it. It was set up on a rolling stand that placed it just above his head level. The sight on the screen made his blood run cold.

There on the screen, he saw himself, as if he were being recorded and the screen was just broadcasting the tape. Akira was strapped to a chair, his hands behind his back and his legs chained to the metal legs with thick cuffs. He wore a black and white prison uniform, his hair was wildly unkempt, and when he viciously writhed against his restraints the TV image did the same.

The TV screen showed his image from an angle that suggested it was being recorded above and to his right. But when he turned he found no camera.

"What the hell…?" He breathed, disbelief overriding his anxiety. "Is… is this a dream?"

He wanted to believe so, but the bite of the chains against his ankles and wrists made it difficult.

"Hello?" he tentatively called out to the darkness.

For a moment, no answer was forthcoming. All he could hear was the heavy thud of his heart in his chest. Yet, when he was about to call out again, steps rang out. Light ones that clacked against the stone ground and echoed against the walls.

Akira's eyes widened when two forms stepped out of the darkness on either side of the wall of TV's. Their steps carried them in front of them so they could stand side by side in full view.

They appeared to be young girls, barely taller than four feet, with snow white hair tucked into matching blue hats. They wore wadern uniforms of the same ethereal blue hue that complimented the strange surroundings. Each of them wore an eye patch embroidered with an elegant **V**, but the eyes that were visible had haunting yellow iris' that pierced into his soul like a knife.

They looked like they were almost mirror images of each other. However, the lettering on their hats, their hairstyles (Hair buns and a braid), and their ties differed from each other.

Their unnerving stares made him sweat anxiously. However, he dared not show it. He only glared at them, his stare demanding answers. They made absolutely no reaction to the leer, only continuing to pierce him with those otherworldly eyes before, in perfect sync, turning on the spot and stepping away from each other.

Akira blinked. His attention was so affixed on the two twins that he hadn't noticed the wall of TV's abruptly change their image. Instead of static or random pictures, the TV's now had a single image spread out across all of them like they were one great big set.

The image was of a similar room to this one, however the light in their was much brighter and far more appealing to the eyes. The room was mostly blank save for the exquisite wooden desk in the center of the sets. A beautiful lamp and a quill rested on the surface.

Sitting behind that desk, was the strangest man Akira had ever seen. He appeared to be an old man, though he lacked wrinkles. His head was balding and hair that did flow down his shoulders was the same stark white as those twins. His eyes bulged uncomfortably beneath his willowy brows, his nose stretched out past his face more than was natural, and his mouth seemed perpetually locked into a knowing grin. He wore a prim black suit, and white gloves that concealed far too long fingers.

When the image settled on the man music began to play from the TV's. Truthfully, the music was beautiful. Even playing from all those sets at once, it was in such perfect sync that it might as well have been playing from one. The music was as regal and ethereal, the melodic tone serving to calm him slightly.

_(Opera music?)_

Though it seemed impossible, the man's eyes locked with his through the screen. He presented a gloved hand to him, and spoke through his grin.

"Trickster… Welcome to my Velvet Room."

His voice was deep, and echoed through space. The moment the man spoke, any pretense of calm Akira had broke.

He tugged at his chain, yanking his arms even as he felt just how tightly they held him. He did _not_ like being helpless like this. He didn't know who this man was, but he had a feeling he was responsible for putting him here.

"It's about time you've come to, inmate." A haughty voice at his side made him flinch. Akira whipped his head around, only just now realizing the twins were now on either of his side.

The girl who spoke, the one with buns on either side of her head, leveled him with a glare from her only eye.

"Do not be alarmed. The you in reality is currently fast asleep." The other girl's voice was level, and her gaze was decidedly impassive. She simply had no meaningful expression. "You are experiencing this only as a dream."

_(Reality? A dream? No… No matter how I look at this, it's too real to be a dream.)_

The man on the screen spoke again. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Trickster. I am sure you are confused."

"...Where am I?"

He seemed amused by his furious glare. "This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter… As I have no doubt you have already figured out, this is no mere dream. At least, not by your definitions."

The otherworldly man laid a hand across the smooth table, the fingers rhythmically bouncing across the wood as he rested his cheek on a fist. His grin widened, and Akira snarled at him.

"It is a room where only those bound by a 'contract' may enter, and I am its master. You may call me _Igor."_

Akira felt it was fitting, but he really wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"I summoned you to discuss important matters. It involves your life as well."

"Un. Tie. Me." Akira bit out, tugging against his restraints again. He didn't care who this man was, nor did he have any interest in talking about things while he was strapped to a chair.

"Watch your mouth inmate!" The brusque girl advanced on him, a baton suddenly appearing in her hand that she promptly swung at him. Akira flinched, but the weapon only coasted just by his ear instead of outright bludgeoning him. Even still, the threat was clear, and Akira was forced to bite down on his growing fury.

He had to remember he wasn't in control right now. He was at these peoples mercy. Pissing his captors off was probably a bad idea. Torture or murder were not far from the realm of possibility.

And yet, this was a dream wasn't it? Igor had said as much, and if he were to be believed then this went way beyond a simple kidnapping. Summoning in a dream…

_(Supernatural? I don't want to believe it, but it's hard to deny too.)_

"I understand your unease, Trickster. After all…" Igors bead gaze roamed the room, "This is a very _unfortunate_ form for the Velvet Room to take. The state of this room reflects the state of your own heart, after all."

He tried to understand. He really did. But it was such an absurd claim that he was left momentarily speechless, his dry mouth working to come up with some response that his brain just couldn't formulate.

"I don't think I like TV that much." Akira finally grunted. The other twin turned to regard him with her cold look.

Igor only chuckled, "You may take it as you like."

Igor was running circles around him with his vague way of talking. He had answered his question, technically, yet his explanation made absolutely no sense. Igor brought about a strange feeling, as if the man was hiding nothing from him yet was still keeping him in the dark somehow.

What looked like an interrogation on a bound teenanger felt more like an obtusely intricate game of chess between the two. Not for the first time, Akira questioned Igor's intentions.

"...Why am I here?"

"Because _ruin _approaches."

Akira leveled him with an incredulous look.

"I speak of the end of everything. The _ruin_ of all things material and immaterial. The end of the world, if you like. However… there is a means to oppose such a fate."

Even bound, confused, and scared out of his wits, Akira could see where this was going. "...Me."

"Indeed. The world's fate weighs in your hands, Trickster. As such, you must be 'rehabilitated'. Rehabilitated toward freedom. That is the only means to avoid the ruin that awaits you. To that end, perhaps a cell is a fitting setting."

The end of the world… Akira didn't want to believe it. He wanted to brush it aside as the ramblings of a madman. Yet there was no deceit in his tone, and Akira couldn't find it in himself to not believe his words.

Because, ultimately, disbelief served no purpose. If he were to deny the circumstances and deny the fact that it all felt so real, he would be fooling no one but himself. This was reality. Perhaps a warped and unimaginable version of it, but reality all the same.

He wouldn't believe him. Not outright. But he would listen, and try to find the truth. The _real_ truth.

"I wonder if you have the resolve to see to the end of ruin. I will take great interest in observing your rehabilitation."

_(Damn it all… What the hell is going on? Ruin? Rehabilitation? Trickster? He's just giving me more and more questions!)_

The two twins abruptly turned to him, their glowing eyes locked with his own. The bun haired girl leveled her stern look of disgust, while the braided one simply blinked hollowly.

"Ah, pardon me for not introducing the others. To your right, Caroline; to your left, Justine. They shall serve as wardens during your stay."

Calling them waderns only solidified the prison-like image the room had. Having such young-looking girls imprisoning him left a bad taste in his mouth.

Justine tilted her head, as if reading his thoughts. "The duty of wardens is chiefly to protect inmates. We are your collaborators in name."

Caroline hefted her baton onto a shoulder, "Only if you remain obedient, inmate. So don't step outta line!"

"Indeed."

These two really rubbed him the wrong way. Caroline seemed liable to lash out in anger at the drop of a hat, and Justine had such a hard demeanor that he could hardly tell what was going through her head. He had never felt so put-off by children before. Then again, nothing about this room made sense. He couldn't even be sure they _were_ children.

Igor chuckled at his predicament. "It seems the night is waning. Our meeting must be cut short. Take your time to come to grips with your situation." For a moment their eyes locked, "We will surely meet again, and I will do my utmost to answer your questions."

At once, the screens blanked out. The image of igor disappeared, replaced with the static and nonsense. Akira could only frown. All of the questions he had were going unanswered for now, and just trying to think about them was making his head hurt.

Loud ringing overtook the room, emanating somewhere overhead.

"Times up," Caroline said, standing beside her twin once more. "Hurry up and go back to sleep already!"

Akira sank into his chair, but his expression did not ease. He would get his answers. One way or another.

The black mist rolled back in, this time overtaking everything. The darkness grew heavier and heavier until Akira finally drifted off.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Right, so, heres a sort of new story. I began working on this around the same time I began The Show Must Go On, but I never quite got around to getting much of it done. **

**As you can tell, its a Persona 5 and Yakuza crossover, with Akira being an expelled Yakuza member. When I went into writing this I wanted to have the video-game aesthetics of Yakuza more pronounced than other fanfictions normally would. Thats why **_heat actions_** are prominent.**

**Whenever you see an **

**X**

**That means a heat action is being activated. How innovative.**

**Also, some of you readers familiar with different anime might recognize some of the characters ive used so far. Cheers to you if you did.**

**Anyway, this was just something I was working on the side. It will be a long time before new chapters will be coming along for it. I do have a basic plot sketched out for it, but The Show Must Go On has my focus right now and I dont want to ignore that story for this one. **

**I wanted to get this published though. At least to see how readers feel about it and find out if its actually worth continuing. And to prove that im not dead and still working hard.**

**Thats that on that. Thanks for reading.**


	3. Chapter 1-1

Akira watched the vehicles slip by, the gentle rumble of the cars engine and the soft leather at his back a relaxing presence. His face was placid as always, with his stern grey eyes muted behind his glasses and his school uniform jacket smoothly buttoned up.

From his place in the passenger's seat of Sojiro's car, Akira could watch the morning city life pass by. The car was silent, Sojiro didn't seem eager to talk to him for any reason and hadn't said a word since they'd set off from the cafe. That suited Akira just fine. He wasn't much of a talker anyway.

In fact, with the silence and cool air of the A/C, Akira could better ponder the events of last night's… dream. Even now, he didn't know what to make of it. After the dream ended he had woken up in the loft as if nothing happened. There were no signs of the dream actually happening, though the images were still crystal clear in his head.

Was the Velvet Room real? For now, he would assume so. He could be wrong, but it was better than denying it and getting caught off guard if he was dragged there again. If he was wrong, the worst case would be that he made a fool of himself searching for answers to a false problem. But if he was right and didn't even try...

Where did he go from there? Was there a way to actually get more information on the place? Was it a danger to him? Did those people actually want to help him, or were they really just enemies? Should he talk to Hayama about it? All good questions, but no good answers. As it stood, there was very little he could realistically do.

_(If it really is supernatural, there's nothing I can do about it right now. I'll just have to wait for Igor to appear again. I'll get my answers then.)_

An unpleasant choice, and it made Akira grimace in distaste. He never liked playing a reactionary side. Whenever he encountered a problem, he always preferred to take a proactive role in handling it.

"We're here."

Akira blinked, and focused back on the present, shaking the thoughts away swiftly. Slipping out of the car, the Ex-Yakuza member was greeted with the first look at his school. And it was… underwhelming. Or, rather, it pretty much fit his expectations exactly. It looked more like a prison than anything else, and it seemed to radiate an oppressive atmosphere that made him click his tongue.

The teen followed behind Sojiro while he took his hat off, the man sending a scathing glare backward all the while.

"Do me a favor and behave yourself, okay? I don't really care if you get expelled, but don't cause me any trouble."

Akira stuffed his hands into his pockets, his face not changing in the slightest.

The inside of the school wasn't nearly as bad as the outside, though it was still bland. The entrance hall was freshly cleaned and empty, their steps loud as Sojiro whistled appreciatively. There was a certain novelty to an empty school, and the man seemed to drink it in. Akira had no real frame of reference for such a thing, so his reaction was more muted. As usual.

The only thing that really caught his interest was a trophy case full of sparkling plaques and sculptures. Volleyball championship victories, he observed, an impressive amount of them too. He wasn't all that big of a fan for the sport, but it was an admirable credence to the school nonetheless.

Before they could do anything more, a woman stepped up to them.

"Oh, You must be Sakura-san. And… Tetsu-san."

"That's right."

Akira ignored the fact that Sojiro's voice was noticeably less gruff. Instead he examined the woman for a short moment. Wavy brunette hair, pale skin, and a shockingly disheveled appearance. The woman looked like she hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, and her vaguely exhausted sighing wasn't doing her any favors. Was this school running its teachers ragged? He wouldn't even be surprised.

He looked away disinterestedly, focusing back on more important matters.

* * *

**Shujin Academy**

**Aoyama District**

Akira had never met a bald person he liked. Not once. Sure, it may have sounded like a rude generalization, but when a pattern begins to form it's hard for him to not speak his mind.

"To reiterate, just so we're clear, you will be immediately expelled if you cause any problems." Principal Kobayakawa told him sternly, stressing his words to get through to the teen.

**Itameru Kobayakawa**

**Principal of Shujin Academy**

Akira admired the room from beside Sojiro, his grey eyes scanning over the place. Plaques, trophies, and what looked like an attempt to achieve feng shui. The haggard woman had taken them directly to the principal's office where Kobayakawa, the portly principal, gave them the same spiel Akira had heard hundreds of times now.

"Honestly, I hesitated to accept someone like you, but the court's decision is final. However, do not mistake my kindness for leniency. Our staff _will_ be keeping an eye on you."

It was a challenge to not openly scoff… or deck the man then and there. His threat, while very real, didn't even faze him. Kobayakawa was a fat bodied man that didn't wear a suit very well. His 'authority' was laughable, and it was a wonder that anyone took him seriously in this place. Even the late Sohei Dojima had been more physically threatening than this man.

Sojiro seemed to have checked out of the conversation as well, if his bored expression was to go by.

"You may have done a variety of things in hiding back home, but you _will_ behave yourself here." Akira couldn't stop himself from smirking at that.

_(You have no idea…)_

Unfortunately, Kobayakawa noticed his smile and immediately scowled at him. "Is something funny young man?"

He wiped his expression, returning to stony impassivity as if a switch had been flicked. "No sir."

"I hope not. Though you may have wasted your life, that is no excuse to not take this second chance seriously." The insulting tone made Akira mentally roll his eyes. He stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets.

He gestured to the woman, "Now then. She shall be your homeroom teacher. You would do well to show her the same respect you would me."

Akira blinked, turning his attention back to the woman for the first time. Now he really took in her presence. She didn't quite radiate the hostility and derision he had come to know so far, but the way she listlessly looked at him conveyed a very… detached aura. As if she really wasn't all there emotionally.

**Sadayo Kawakami**

**Shujin Teacher**

"I'm Sadayo Kawakami." The woman tossed two items onto the desk in front of him unceremoniously. What appeared to be a card with a picture Hayama had taken of him and a small black booklet. "Here is your school ID and your student handbook. ...I'm sure you understand why you need to read the rules."

At least she didn't think he was stupid enough to need her to explain everything again.

"Should anything happen, I won't be able to protect you." Kawakami said, before blinking. Ignoring her new student's gaze she spoke to the principal, "...That was your promise, right?"

"Mhm. He is responsible for all his actions."

Akira's flinch and subsequent scowl went unnoticed by the others.

If it was possible, Kawakami looked even more tired now. "_*sigh*_ but really though... Why me? Surely there would be a better choice…"

"It was the only choice. Ushimaru could have done it, but well… you know how he gets."

"...Yeah, I do."

Had they forgotten that he was still in the room? Or did they just not care? Their disregard should have pissed him off, but Akira was more exasperated than anything else. In the end it was just talk, and if talk could get under his skin that easily he wouldn't have gotten this far in life. Let them say what they wanted to say, he had more important things to give his attention to.

"This is all really interesting, but can we go now?" Akira was never more thankful to hear Sojiro's voice. "I've got a store to get back to."

"Hmm, of course. I wish you luck, Sakura-san." Kobayakawa's professionalism returned. "Don't let him cause any trouble outside of school, would you?"

With that, the two stepped out of the Principal's office. Akira dutifully closed the door behind them and joined Sojiro as he walked down the silent halls. As ever, his face was deadpan as he committed the different branching halls and doorways to memory. Sojiro seemed content to languish in the silence once more, though his expression was noticeably pensive. Perhaps he was beginning to regret taking him in, second guessing himself.

Once they began to climb down a set of stairs to the bottom floor, Akira's phone buzzed in his pocket. Piquing a brow, he pulled it out and frowned at the screen like it was an unpleasant insect. There, emblazoned in the very middle of his home screen, was that same app from yesterday. The striking red eye seemed even brighter, and it almost appeared to be distorting the apps near it.

_(I'm sure I erased this… Did I really get a virus?)_

Grabbing hold of it, he once again dunked the mysterious app into the virtual trash can, wiping it from his phone. Akira clicked his teeth as he pocketed the device. With that strange room, school, adults that hated him, and his expulsion, the last thing he needed was to have to buy another phone.

* * *

Akira rolled his shoulder exhaustively and stepped into the cafe behind Sojiro. The teen grimaced as he stretched out his stiff legs. The car ride back was… exhausting. Bumper to bumper traffic that stretched out the travel time by hours. He probably could have gotten out, walked, and arrived faster than they did.

Even worse, he had been stuck in that traffic with Sojiro- a man who disliked him vehemently and had no qualms with proving such. Akira simply sat through the ride silently, letting the man aim his ire at him without even offering a single reaction or complaint. In the end, it probably did more harm than good- his lack of reaction seemed to unnerve Sojiro to a degree, and pulled his guard up even further.

"To think there would be that much traffic… What a waste of time." Sojiro bemoaned. "Couldn't even open the cafe today…"

"Is this kind of traffic common?" Akira asked, not really caring either way as he fiddled with the cuffs of his blazer.

"No. At least, not to this degree." Sojiro blinked before glaring at him, "Why? You're not planning to go on any joyrides are you? If I find out you touched my car…"

Akira side-eyed him, just a touch incredulous at the jump in logic. Just what sort of image did Sojiro have of him?

"No. I don't know how to drive."

Well… that wasn't exactly true. He knew how to drive and he had done so many times, but his mentors would likely vehemently deny that claim. Akira had the steady hands and quick wits to understand how to drive. He knew all the rules and regulations of the road. He knew how to work the engine to keep it in gear. But when he got his hands on the wheel…

"_I cannot in good faith call this anything close to driving!"_

Either way, he legally wasn't old enough to be able to drive. Internally, he couldn't help but be amused at how cautious of the law he was forced to be now.

"Hmph..." Sojiro seemed to accept that, or at least he had no intention of digging any deeper on it. "Anyway, I've got to get going. I'll lock the place up, so do whatever you want for the rest of the night."

Akira thought about it. Weighing the pros and cons of stepping out and getting the lay of the land. In the end, school started tomorrow and Sojiro was likely still critical of every little thing he did. It was better to just go to sleep early to get ready. Far too much could go wrong if he wasn't careful, and with so much at stake it was better to just play it safe from here on out.

"Oh, but don't mess with my store. If anything is broken or missing, I _will_ call the cops. You got that?"

Akira swallowed any reply. Every time Sojiro demanded something of him and he agreed, it was little more than a deferment to authority. Sojiro was impressing upon him the control that he had, and the lack of control that Akira had. If Akira continued to defer and make concessions, then sooner or later what little freedom he had would be gone. He had seen it all too often, and it had nearly happened to him when he first became a part of the family.

Too many of his fellow family members were basically slaves to Agon. A fate that he had avoided only by the skin of his teeth.

Sojiro had power over him, that was an undeniable fact. But he would be damned before he let the man see that. He relied on the man, but he was not subservient.

Again, Sojiro gave him an odd, wary look but didn't say anything more. In moments he had gathered his things and left, the door jingling shut behind him.

Just like that, Akira was on his lonesome. The Ex-Yakuza relaxed his muscles, already feeling relieved by the silence. He was not a social creature by nature, his lack of discernible emotions and near-monotone voice making that obvious enough. His strength was in listening to other people, but that didn't mean he always liked it.

...

Returning to his loft, Akira shed his school jacket and tossed it up- leaving it to hang listlessly over the blade of the motionless ceiling fan. He grabbed the hem of his turtleneck, already lifting it up to expose an inch of skin.

_**Vring… Vring…**_

He paused, dropping his shirt and glancing around. A phone? It sounded nothing like his own ringtone, so he didn't bother pulling it out, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the noise. Due to the acoustics of his room, it sounded like it was coming from multiple directions at once- probably due to the drafty floorboards.

He was fairly certain there was no phone hooked up in the attic. He would have noticed it while cleaning yesterday. That only left downstairs. Exiting the room, he quickly descended down the steps while habitually rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. Immediately he noticed the phone dock resting on the cafe counter that he had overlooked thus far. The yellow pay phone buzzed against the table, the noise annoyingly loud in the quiet cafe. Striding up to it, he snatched it off the dock before it could complete another round of ringing.

"Yo, it's me." Akira recognized Sojiro's voice readily through the phone, distorted though it may be.

"Sakura-san. It's been awhile." In fact, it had been approximately 4 minutes.

"Shut it." Sojiro exasperatedly groaned, "I wanted to catch you before you went to sleep. I forgot to turn over my store sign to _closed_ when I closed up shop. It's too much of a hassle for me to go back, so you handle it."

Akira cast a sideways glance, noticing that the sign was indeed flipped the wrong way. Concession after concession… whatever.

"Done."

There was a pause over the line. Was Sojiro surprised that he wasn't putting up a fuss over it? Sure, it was a little annoying to be told what to do like that, but it was far from an unreasonable request. He was used to such demands, after all. So long as Sojiro didn't make a habit of pushing him around, he was fine adhering to the occasional request.

"...I'll leave you in charge of the sign then. I'll usually flip it once the day is done, but check on it every day to make sure. Alright?"

"Hm." Humming in loose agreement, Akira hung up the phone. Opening the door, he stepped out of the cafe and into the alleyway streets. The air was surprisingly cool for the season, likely due in part to the way the wind and air settled in the cramped corners of the district. Casting a glance around, he admired the quaint beauty of the homely backstreets during the night. The distant sound of traffic made for quite an interesting atmosphere.

It wasn't quite the Shinjuku Golden Gai, but it was interesting nonetheless.

Returning to the task at hand, the young Ex-Yakuza turned and flipped the store sign. He doubted anybody would actually come by for a cup of coffee at this time at night, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The last thing he needed was one of Sojiro's customers pounding on Leblanc's door and waking him up in the middle of the night.

Akira nodded, dusting off his hands with a tiny smirk.

"Is this the place?" A nasaly voice spoke up behind him, making the teen freeze up and furrow his brows.

"Yeah, this is it." Another voice, smarmy and unrepentant in the arrogance it exuded, made itself known. "I'd recognize that shitty sign anywhere.

Akira turned, raising a brow as he found he was no longer alone. Three teenagers had appeared in front of the cafe, each of them around Akira's own age. The three young men wore the same school uniform- not Shujin's, Akira analyzed, but beyond that he couldn't be sure what school it belonged to. There was nothing outstandingly unique about any of them, however the nasty sneers painted across their faces made Akira frown.

If bad intentions smelled, then these three teens absolutely _reeked_ of it. They weren't even trying to hide it either.

"Hate the fucking backroads man… Ain't shit back here yet it still takes forever to find anything," the third and final boy shook his head and grimaced in annoyance, before perking up when he finally seemed to notice Akira, "Oh? Is this the guy?"

The middle teen, who seemed to be the de-facto leader of the group, scrutinized Akira, "...Nah, that ain't him. The bastard was a hell of a lot older. Hey! What's up bro? What are you doing here?"

Akira tossed a glance behind him at the flipped store sign and back at the group of teens. Rolling the situation around in his head for a moment, he was momentarily glad his glasses mostly hid his intense focus.

"Oh… I wanted some coffee, I didn't realize it closed this early though."

The leader chuckled, "You know they make apps to tell you that, right? Eh, well it's no big loss. The coffee tastes like shit anyway, so you're not missing out."

The two underlings sneered at that. Akira only offered them a cursory glance before focusing back on the leader.

"So what are _you_ doing here?" he cut right to the heart of the matter, still maintaining an air of indifference, (not that hard to achieve.)

They looked between each other, appearing to be thinking about how much they should be willing to divulge to him. After muttering hushed words among themselves they came to an agreement, and the leader turned to him once more.

"We're going to trash this cafe."

Akira blinked.

"...Why?"

The leftmost goon spoke up, "The old bastard of an owner kicked us out yesterday morning. Started nagging at us for being 'too loud' and threatened to call the police on us for playing hooky."

The other underling nodded vindictively, sneering in disgust at the memory, "Motherfucker did it right in front of our girls. Never been so disrespected in my life."

"So we're gonna trash his place for fucking with us. That bitch won't be so smug after we break all his shit."

Akira sighed and massaged his brow. Honestly? He could see it. Sojiro Sakura wasn't the kind of person to mince his words when talking to somebody he didn't like. He could just imagine the old cafe owner kicking the teens out on the street for being a nuisance. Something like that would leave a bad taste in anyone's mouth.

He couldn't exactly blame their reaction, though it _was_ a bit excessive. Honestly, if they had caught him a little earlier he would almost consider letting them do it. But he didn't quite despise Sojiro that much.

More importantly, this situation affected him too. If these idiots trashed Leblanc, there was no doubt in his mind that Sojiro would pin the blame on him. Sojiro would never believe that someone else did it, not when there was a perfect perpetrator living right under the roof. If even one window was shattered come morning, the cafe owner would have the police drag him away without a second thought.

"Sorry. I can't let you do that." he finally said, dropping the air of ignorance he had made.

The leader drew up short, blinking in bewilderment. "Excuse me?"

"It'll be a problem for me if this place got destroyed. So you'll have to leave."

The trio took a step toward him. Akira did not back down. "Hey, we aren't asking for permission. Get out of the way now, before I break your shitty glasses."

Akira sized them up. None of them posed an even remote threat to him. They obviously didn't come here expecting to meet any resistance, and were ill equipped to handle it. The only reason they were acting so arrogant was because they had pegged him as a weak passerby. A fatal mistake.

"Are you listening? We will seriously fuck your shit up. Get out of the way, nerd."

Akira's fist tightened at his side, already prepared to lay the idiot out if it came to it. Technically he wasn't supposed to be getting into fights so wantonly, but he had good justification this time. Damned if he didn't, inaction was simply not an option. But just when he was about to strike, a new voice joined the tense air, cutting through the tension cleaner than any blade.

"Hey brats. You're blocking the road."

The leader growled and a vein nearly burst on his neck as he whirled around, "now who the fuck-!"

He stopped cold, the color draining from his face as he came face to face with the man behind him. The teen's eyes trailed up the immaculate teal slacks, suit jacket, and wavered when they landed on the severe face of the bespectacled man. The new arrival towered over him, and had an aura that simply screamed _dont fuck with me_.

The leader swallowed, taking a hesitant step away. "You… I…"

One of the other thugs shivered as soon as he laid eyes on the man. "This guy looks like Yakuza bro…"

"U-uh…"

He frowned down on them. "Get lost."

All at once, the three teens rocketed to attention and performed a nearly ninety degree bow. "Sorry sir!" They shouted at once before turning tail and running off. It seemed that apart from being exceptionally crude-mouthed, the trio was also skilled at beating feet.

Akira grunted as he watched the trio flee, annoyed at how easily they were scared off. Even after all this time, he had never learned how to force thugs to back off with his presence alone.

"Getting into trouble already, Akira?"

"I wasn't exactly looking for it," he sighed, shaking his head and turning to address the suited man. "Thanks for stepping in, Hayama-aniki."

"Well…" Hayama's sharp eyes behind his glasses watched the fleeing forms disappear down the alley, "I hardly did anything. And this would have been a very stupid reason to break your parole."

The words were joking, but there was a noticeable edge to them. The insinuation was clear.

"I had no choice."

Hayama only rubbed his chin, staring him down. Akira did not flee from his gaze, only returning it silently. The bespectacled Yakuza may not have been as physically imposing as Gao or Agon, but he still had a terrifying presence that could set even the hardiest of men on edge. Being able to hold his gaze was a monumental task on its own. Adversity in the face of a greater threat was not something anybody had ever taught him, but from day one Akira had always been unshakeable.

"...It's fine. You did the right thing. It would have been much more troublesome if you let them do as they please,"

Akira nodded deferentially, "Thank you."

"Hmm… Come on, let's head in. I brought some of your stuff since I was in the area." Satonaka hefted the duffel bag that Akira finally noticed hanging from his shoulder. He turned and opened up the doorway. The bell chimed as the two strode in, the door shutting behind them with a muted _thump_.

Hayama set the bag down on the counter, his head swiveling about to take in Leblanc's interior, "Still the same after all these years... No clue how he still stays in business."

"Are you avoiding Sakura-san?" Akira asked, stepping around to lean against the counter with crossed arms. Momentarily he considered offering his mentor a drink, but disregarded it quickly. What could he offer? Water? Absurd.

Hayama raised a brow, "What makes you say that?"

"Just a guess. You could have stopped by earlier, but I think you waited until Sojiro closed up and left for the day."

Hayama huffed, but allowed himself to smirk, "Astute. Yeah, I waited until I knew the cafe was closed. Sojiro won't be happy if he sees me anywhere near the backroads, so it's better if he just doesn't know I'm here."

The mystery deepens… If there was any doubt of the antagonistic nature of Sojiro and Hayama's relationship, then it was surely cleared now.

"If he sees me hanging around it might put our deal in jeopardy, so I wont be around for long. If I ever stop by to check on you it'll be after closing, so keep an eye on your phone. I'll let you know when I'm coming."

"It should go without saying, but _don't_ let Sojiro know I was here. For your own sake, alright?"

"Understood." Sojiro was just about the opposite of the kind of person he would confide in. Hayama had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Hayama eyed him for a moment, but accepted his dull answer.

"Anyway, here," he hefted the duffel once more and Akira quickly took it off his hands, "I grabbed all your spare clothes from that apartment. There wasn't much, but it was all I could find."

The ex-yakuza sighed in relief. He had _just_ been thinking about his lack of clothing. He didn't quite mind the turtleneck as much anymore, but he much preferred his own clothing over it. Lowering the duffel onto a table, Akira grasped the zipper and swiftly opened it up.

However, instead of loose clothing articles Akira was greeted by a veritable wall of pale green. Akira blinked, realizing that thick folds of yen were stacked on top of his clothing. His eyes roved over the cash, plucking a stack up to eye critically, easily counting a hundred thousand yen and beyond.

"As you've probably guessed, the family emptied out all your accounts. Agon called it _reparations, _but I'm pretty sure he just wanted to twist the knife."

Akira grunted, but said nothing. He expected as much, he had been avoiding checking his bank account for that very reason. Seeing what inevitably became of his hard-earned cash would have only further ruined his day.

"I took the liberty of withdrawing what I could before they did. This," he pointed to the open duffel, "was all I could take. It's a little over two hundred thousand."

"That's… More than I was expecting."

He had expected nothing. Two hundred thousand, while only a fraction of the wealth he used to have, was a sizable amount.

"Don't look so pleased. You of all people should know how quickly money can run out." Hayama admonished, taking a seat at the bar stool. "If I were you, I'd start thinking about getting a part-time job."

Akira's distaste must have shown on his face, because Hayama rolled his eyes.

"Nothing good will come from you having too much free time. Working for some extra pocket money during the year will make time fly faster, kid."

Keep himself busy until the year ends. That way the chance of him involving himself in more trouble like what nearly happened this night would be minimized.

"I've worked before, so it's not a problem... But that was during the economic bubble." Akira looked away, frowning, "I'm not looking forward to how things have changed."

The Yakuza's face turned almost nostalgic, "There was plenty of money to go around back then, wasn't there?"

The economic bubble was an important point in both of their lives. At that time, Hayama had been steadily rising in the ranks and had been in charge of consolidating the Kazuya family's wealth. The man had been trying to break into the real estate business, but couldn't quite make it due to the heavy competition around Niigata. Hayama was an incredibly intelligent and business savvy man, but the cutthroat real estate business during the bubble was more than he could handle alone.

That was until Akira had begun assisting him in making those deals. While not an expert, the youthful Yakuza had offered solid advice and investment ideas that had ultimately raked in millions of yen for the family.

It had taken a long time to get off the ground, and by the time they were making serious profit the bubble had already come to an end. But Akira's actions were still recognized and were vital to him finally graduating from being a mere errand boy.

"Do what you want, just remember not to break the agreement and you'll be fine. Anyway, that wasn't what I came here to talk about. I was going to discuss it over the phone but… I thought it better that we talk in person for this."

Akira straightened up at the hard tone, opening his ears and giving him his full, undivided attention.

"It wasn't easy getting you here, Akira. I had to pull a lot of strings and take more risks than I'm normally comfortable making," he began, staring off at the distant drone of the TV. "It's no exaggeration to say that I'm sticking my neck out for you. My life is on the line as much as yours, but I won't be here to make sure you don't get into something you shouldn't. So I need you to make me a promise."

"..."

"Promise me that if _anything _happens. Anything out of the ordinary, or if you get caught up in something dangerous again, I will be the _first _to know" Any illusion of a calm, relaxed environment vanished with the absolute steel in his words.

"Don't handle it alone. Don't keep it to yourself. Notify me _immediately._"

"I… I don't think I understand. What do you mean?"

Satonaka crossed his arms, leaning fully onto the cafe counter. "It's exactly how it sounds. If you think something puts your probation at risk, or if you think that I would want to know about it, you call me."

Akira watched him before nodding hesitantly. It wasn't that hard of an ask, and he could see the reason behind it too. Hayama was putting a lot on the line here, the least he could do was keep him abreast of everything. Still, the idea of bogging his mentor down even further with his own problems did not leave a good taste in his mouth.

"Akira."

"I promise, Hayama-aniki."

Hayama gave a closed eye smile, nodding appreciatively, "Good. That's all I ask."

Hayama stood, adjusting his glasses with the same move that Akira had adopted. The lithe man strode to the door, Akira watching him leave impassively. However, he paused just before he left, the door hanging open in his grasp as he sent an almost hesitant glance back at the teenager.

Akira returned the stare, raising a brow in confusion at the out-of-place hesitance. Whatever he was ruminating over, Hayama soon discarded it with a shake of his head and instead grinned amicably.

"And loosen the hell up. You're gonna stand out if you act so aloof all the time."

Akira shuffled uncomfortably, "Ah… uh… I'll try."

Hayama chuckled as he vanished out the door, it quietly thumped shut behind him, leaving Akira alone once more. Brushing a hand through his hair, the teen shouldered the duffel bag and stepped up the staircase, making sure to shut the TV off as he moved. Entering the attic, he quickly deposited all his clothing onto a spare chair- swapping into a t-shirt and pair of boxers as he did so.

He hummed as he stared at the mound of cash left over in the bag. He was touched by his mentor's thoughtfulness, but it posed a whole new problem. If Sojiro found this he would almost certainly suspect foul play. Keeping it hidden was an absolute must.

It wasn't like he could just dump it back into a bank account either. The Kazuya family was most likely still monitoring his accounts, so returning it was a surefire way to have it disappear come morning. He couldn't just make a new account either, for obvious reasons.

Grabbing the bag in a one-handed grip, Akira looked at the rafters over his head. Bending at the knees, he leapt and snagged a free hand on a sturdy looking board and effortlessly pulled himself up. Eyeing the dusty space, he meandered himself over to a dark corner where he promptly stuffed the bag. The shadows and crisscrossing wooden beams hid it at most angles, making it the most apt spot in the loft.

Dropping down, the Ex-Yakuza dusted his hands off while admiring his work. It wasn't perfect, but so long as Sojiro didn't actively go looking for it he wouldn't find it.

With that out of the way, he unceremoniously collapsed onto his futon. Even if he wasn't forced to awaken extra early in the morning, his body felt so utterly drained that he couldn't even conceive of doing anything other than sleeping.

Another day had come to an end in the unfamiliar city, and his outlook only grew more bleaker. Sojiro would force him to watch every little thing he did for the year, always fearing overstepping his bounds and ending up on the streets. The principal and his homeroom teacher might as well be holding the rope around his neck, if he got any further on their bad side they could easily make it impossible for him to blend into the background.

And Hayama hadn't even made a single mention of trying to get him back into the family.

(_Have to keep looking forward. Can't psyche myself out yet.)_

Akira grabbed his phone, quickly pulling up his directory. Navigating to the map app, the young teen chose the train lines and inputted the school. Technology truly was impressive nowadays- simply by putting a destination in his phone could compute the subway line and changes he would need to make to get there quickly. He wouldn't be able to rely on Sojiro driving him to Shujin anymore, after all.

_(Yongen-Jaya...Aoyama-Itchome… Ah, Shibuya. I'll transfer there.)_

Within moments, he had the directions memorized, saving himself from having to waste time in the morning checking it.

**Vmmm…**

Just before he placed it back onto the cardboard box nightstand his phone vibrated ferociously against his hand. Akira gasped, dropping it from his grip in shock. It clattered to the ground loudly. The phone had landed face-up, its bright screen glaring up at the dumbfounded teen.

"What the hell…?" Akira slowly sat up, steely gaze furrowing in confusion.

The subway directory that was on his phone before was gone. In its place, the ominous crimson eye with the starred pupil pulsed. The thing took up the entire center of his screen now, and almost seemed to warp the wallpaper behind it. If he was surprised by the foreboding image, then the sudden introduction of a robotic, yet feminine, voice from the device's speaker made him freeze.

"-**Location Found-"**

Akira carefully stood and reached for the phone with a hesitant hand. Holding it up, he stared dubiously at the eye and felt his stomach almost churn from the nauseating patterns billowing from the app. The voice did not return, but he could almost hear it crystal clear even now.

Once again, the mysterious app was back. Even when he was sure he had deleted it. Just where did it come from? He was sure he would remember downloading something so… striking. And he was usually rather conservative with the use of his phone, so he doubted it could be a virus. Could it be…

...No. If he started seeing things in every shadow he would go insane. It was just a virus. Nothing more, nothing less.

Not that it really made him feel any better.

"It's one thing after another…" he sighed, erasing the app and starting a phone reset for good measure. After school tomorrow he would have to see about getting a new phone shipped in. It would take some time, and it would cut into his newfound funds, but it was necessary.

Tossing the pesky device back onto the box, Akira crawled under the single blanket and flipped the nearby lightswitch- dunking himself into darkness.

He didn't know what tomorrow would bring. Apart from Hayama, there was no one in his corner- no one he could really rely on. All he needed to do was keep a low profile and not attract attention. An easy enough task, but failure to succeed would spell his true and final doom.

Akira slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep, anxiety twisting around his spine like a malevolent snake.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Another chapter out earlier than I planned. Nothing much to say about this one, but I have to say it really is rather fun to work with a stone-cold main character. The beta for this story had Akira being more wise-cracky and snarky, but I much prefer this one.**

**On more important matters, this story will _not_ contain elements of Persona 5 Royal. I know very little about Royal at the time of writing this, and ultimately I feel that it would add too much to a story that already has a LOT that I need to focus on. I may make use of some aspects of it, but most of it will not be implemented.**


	4. Chapter 1-2

"Enjoy." Sojiro set a plate of sizzling eggs and bacon down in front of the elderly couple in the booth, the two giving him thankful smiles that he lazily accepted. Scratching his chin, the cafe owner turned and watched as his newest grievance stepped down the attic steps and into the cafe proper.

Akira paused as he came down, bespectacled eyes taking in the morning atmosphere of the restaurant with some scrutiny. An eyebrow rose slightly at the relaxing setting, but the expression was soon gone and he continued on. Some of the patrons sent him curious looks as the tall teen passed, but ultimately ignored him when they saw him as just another student.

"There you are," Sojiro greeted him with only a side glance as he began to steep the second pot of coffee for the day. His weathered fingers worked quickly with little thought, the movements almost second-nature. "I half-expected you to be gone by morning."

The young man only hummed and let the imputation wash off him, instead he slipped his hands into his plaid slacks and let his school bag rest against his lower back. His clothing had changed come the morning; the white turtleneck was gone- in its place was a white button-up shirt, the top button undone once again. His Shujin uniform jacket was open over it, making for a look that suited him rather well.

If it weren't for the glasses and tacky pants, he would admit this was something he could see himself wearing often.

He stared curiously at Sojiro, noting that he seemed to be in a better mood than he was before. His face wasn't quite as creased with age, and the desire to berate the teenager was absent. Sending another glance around the cafe, he could take a guess why.

"Busy morning?"

Sojiro looked at him over the edge of his glasses, "...Yeah. Early in the school year is a pretty busy time for restaurants. Students drop in before classes start and parents stop by without having to worry about watching their kids," he fiddled with the coffee machine and spurned a steady stream of steam from it, Akira watching curiously all the while, "people are just starting to get into a routine, and lots of them want to add a cup of coffee and a meal to that routine."

"Oh..." Akira nodded, "must be good for business."

"Maybe. But having to serve all these extra people is a pain. I'd rather it be slow and easy like always."

Was Sojiro seriously that lazy? Or was it just a front he put up? Akira honestly couldn't tell.

"Why not hire some part-time workers to help with the morning rush?" he queried, finally noting that the cafe seemed to be solely owned and run by Sakura. Not a single temp or waitress could be spotted in the corner restaurant.

An impressive and respect-worthy feat. Akira knew the basics of opening a business and how to do advertisement runs, but _keeping_ one open was not within his capabilities. Especially not alone.

"Hire who? Someone like you? Don't make me laugh." Sojiro scoffed, finally sliding a full mug of some unidentifiable brew to a young woman at the bar. "I'm just fine with how I run things, thank you very much. I have plenty enough to worry about already."

The student only shrugged at the thinly veiled accusation, not concerned either way, "I see."

Sojiro scrutinized him closely, actually giving him his full attention for the first time that day. He ignored how the teen's steely eyes watched him with almost hawk-like precision that his glasses barely hid. When those grey eyes landed on his own, it was a conscious effort not to look away.

Akira was nothing like any teenager Sojiro knew. He was quiet, mild-mannered and surprisingly well behaved- to the point that Sojiro almost couldn't believe that this was the same kid convicted of an assault charge.

Respect for authority seemed almost ingrained in him, a rarity for kids these days.

And yet, Sojiro could not relax around him. Even if he could get over the whole criminal record business, Akira was simply not someone he could understand. He was quiet, yet his very presence was commanding. He spoke little, but his every word was measured and as sharp as his gaze. Tetsu Akira embodied a smoldering intensity that set Sojiro on edge, as if nothing would be able to stop him if he set his mind to something.

Admirable traits for anyone else, but for a juvenile criminal like him it was only unsettling.

Shaking himself from that line of thought, Sojiro busied himself with his work, and sent a dismissive wave to the teen, "What are you standing around for? Get going. You'll end up late if you get lost."

"I won't get lost." Akira said and moved past the counter, already mentally assessing the streets and train lines he would need to follow. "See you tonight, Sakura-san."

Sojiro stared after him for a moment longer before turning away with a grunt.

"I didn't know you had a kid, Sakura-san" one of his regulars at the counter jabbed at him, a curious look on his face.

"I don't," Sojiro grunted, and pushed all thoughts of the teen from his mind.

…

_(Hmm… That sound... I hope it isn't raining)_

Akira mused silently to himself as he stepped off the subway car and into the main station. The air was brisk on the early morning Monday, and a chilly wind swept down into the station- pushing gently at the scattered trash, adverts, and tussling Akira's frizzy hair as it passed. Tilting his head slightly, Akira could make out the faintest noise of pattering water further up the escalators out of the station.

Ignoring the roar of the train as it took off behind him, Akira moved to the staircase- barely noticing the grouchy businessman yelling into his phone that he almost knocked over with his shoulder as he did.

The subway car had been utterly stuffed and tiny- no big surprise there, it was the same in Niigata, and expecting any different from a city as big as Tokyo was a little naive. Still, being basically chest to chest with dozens of strangers for a rickety ride underground for what felt like hours was not one of his favorite pastimes.

The only real bonus of taking the subway lines was that it was cheap and fast. If it were feasible at all to do so he would just walk to Shujin, but it simply wouldn't work out. Not unless he pulled himself out of bed _hours_ earlier.

Akira grimaced as the crowd thinned out into the above-ground streets. Heavy drops of rain pelted his shoulders, the wind harsher and colder up here than it had been in the station. Some drops even struck and slid down his glasses in lazy streaks, making for a rather surreal and new experience for the teen.

"Eek! Oh come on~! Rain!?"

Akira looked over at the girl wearing a Shujin uniform as she futilely tried to shield herself from the drizzle. Another girl giggled beside her, pulling out a large pink umbrella from her bag that she neatly unfolded.

"Come on, get under here. You know, you should really check the news in the morning… This is the third time you've forgotten your umbrella."

The first girl quickly sidled up next to her friend with an airy sigh of relief, "The news is so depressing though… It's all, "rising crime" this, and "mental breakdown" that. I don't want to sour my morning with all that…"

The rest of the conversation faded away as the two moved on in the direction of the school. Akira adjusted his glasses and followed them, his pace slightly hurried as he ducked his head against the wind.

Puddles began to build along the concrete walkways and the occasional restaurant owner hurried out to fold their dining table umbrellas up before the storm grew worse. Akira's face only soured further when the rain seemed to reach an abrupt peak- the pelt of cold rain now a continuous stream that slid down the back of his neck and threatened to ruin the delicate school supplies shelved in his bag.

He huffed in annoyance, finally giving up on outrunning the squall and hurried off the main path.

Stepping under the awning of a fancy boutique where the rain failed to reach, Akira frowned and pulled his phone up for the first time that day. The weather was already displayed on the lock screen. Convenient as always.

_(Scattered showers… Might pass soon, then. I'll try and wait it out.)_

Suddenly, the forecast on his phone was wiped away and replaced with a hauntingly familiar backdrop of red and black. He wasn't even really surprised to see the eerie eye staring back at him once more. The ex-yakuza leaned back against the boutique window, staring glumly at the phone with a huff.

He never knew an app could be so annoyingly persistent. He could admire its tenacity though, it was a formidable trait of all great Yakuza. ...Though, maybe he shouldn't apply made up personality traits to an app. He wasn't _that_ lonely.

**Tap tap…**

Akira looked away from his screen, the clack of footsteps against wet stone alerting him to the new presence. The figure ducked under the canopy to escape the rain, giving a minute body shiver as they brushed the clinging rain drops from the arms of their Shujin uniform. They were a good head shorter than he was, and had a slim, eye-catching figure.

A girl, from Shujin, he surmised. Although she had modified the uniform greatly with a fashionable hoodie underneath the jacket, the plaid skirt was a dead giveaway. Then she dropped her hood, revealing long, natural, platinum-blonde hair pulled into twin tails. Not a single hair was out of place as her fair-skinned fingers dropped the hood. Then, as if finally realizing she wasn't alone under the canopy, she turned to him.

She tilted her head as she looked up at him, seeming to be examining him just as much as he had her. She was watching him closely… As if anticipating something. It wasn't a wary caution that she regarded him with, but rather a resigned one. An almost tired expectation.

Whatever she was expecting of him, he didn't deliver on it. Instead, she seemed surprised as he just continued to stare cooly back at her. Her blues eyes blinked for a moment as he raised a brow before growing disinterested in the exchange and moving to turn away.

Then she smiled. An easygoing smile that actually caught him off guard with its sincerity. Unprepared, Akira awkwardly returned it with a nod, not exactly a great reciprocation but all he felt he could manage.

The girl seemed pleased all the same, and turned to watch the slowly weakening rain. After a moment, Akira did too, his posture not quite as stiff anymore.

The two stood there for a stretch of time- simply watching as the rain weakened to a rhythmic drizzle. Akira wasn't very fond of rain, not anymore at least. But he still found it relaxing all the same to observe it and feel the misty wind on his skin.

It helped that he and the Shujin girl had fallen into a rather companionable silence. Neither seemed interested in talking, if only for fear of ruining the tranquil atmosphere.

The rumble of an engine shattered the moment, Akira watched with detached regard as a Silver Sedan slowly rolled into view- turning off the road so that it could pull up at the curb in front of them. The girl beside him stiffened, almost imperceptibly so, but Akira scarcely missed such things.

The car's window rolled steadily downward, and a man with curly hair and a strong-cut chin leaned over the passenger seat to address the two students.

"Good morning! You know the rain isn't going to let up for a bit, right?" the man began, a gentle smile on his face as he rested an elbow on the head of the seat. "You're going to end up late at this rate. Want me to give you a ride?"

Akira effectively tuned him out after the first few words. He didn't know this man, and he was being far too familiar with his words to be speaking to him. He must've been talking to the girl, and as such it was none of his business or interest.

"Oh, sure. Thank you."

The girl stepped away from the veranda, and Akira focused back on the clouds hanging over the sky. They were fading to a more amenable color. He was wrong. The rain was going to let up any moment.

"Do you need a lift too?" the man's voice called him back to attention, and Akira looked over with a raised brow. The curly-haired adult was staring at him now, though he wasn't making an effort to lean over to speak to him like before. The girl paused in the middle of opening the passenger door to look back at him when the man spoke.

Now that she was looking at him, Akira spotted the almost fragile nature of her smile. It was nothing like the one she had given to him before. This one was weak… almost mired in anxiousness. Despite the fact that the rain was still falling at an appreciable rate, she didn't seem to be in a hurry to take shelter in the car.

Akira's finger twitched.

"I'll be fine." Akira turned away, voice low and detached as always. Unseen by him, the man frowned at the dismissive brush off but ultimately rolled his eyes. He gave an encouraging nod to the girl, and she finally stepped in and shut the door behind her. She set her eyes on her lap and didn't move them from there. It may have been for the best- if she had looked up, she would have seen Akira's calculating, hawk-like gaze following her as the window rolled back up.

The car rolled back into the street and disappeared. Akira sighed and twiddled a tuft of his hair, trying to push the encounter from his mind. He was far too tired and too wary to be jumping to conclusions or involving himself in things that had nothing to do with him.

With the rain petering off now, he pushed away from the veranda and set his hands back in his pockets.

"Out of my way!"

Akira's eyes widened instantly when the sound of heel slapping concrete echoed in his ears, and without any hesitance he pivoted and stepped to the side. A blur of yellow passed him by. Staggering past him with a yell of vexation, the other teen skidded to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Goddamnit…" the new Shujin student growled, clenching his fists, "Screw that pervy teacher!"

Akira's phone buzzed in his pocket.

The Ex-Yakuza frowned at the teen's back. If he hadn't moved when he did, the student would have hit his shoulder and probably knocked him over with how fast he was running. Akira gave an irritated sigh, prepared to just brush the event off and focus on more important matters.

Then the teen turned back to him with an angry glare and gave a click of his teeth, "What are you looking at?"

Akira forced himself not to scowl- it would all but invite more problems. It was bad enough that he had to deal with some guy who seemed to be looking to start trouble, but on top of that, the other student even had dyed blonde hair. If Akira wasn't already on thin ice, he probably would have asked him if he was trying to start a fight with him.

To top it all off, the kids posture and attitude was aggressive and flippant. The same defining traits of the many Niigata thugs who would jump you at any moment just because they thought you looked tough.

"What?" the other student began when Akira seemed more interested in his own thoughts than him, "You plannin' on rattin' me out to Kamoshida, you bastard?"

...He blinked. It wasn't quite the follow-up he was expecting, and the confusion on his face showed it.

"Kamoshida?"

Now the blonde seemed confused. His testy glare faded as he blinked and tilted his head, looking at him like he'd grown an extra head. "Uh… yeah. Kamoshida. You know, the guy that just drove off in the car?"

Oh. The curly haired man. Akira nodded to himself, satisfied that he had a name to a face. More importantly, it seemed the other student's ire was directed at Kamoshida more than it was at him.

The blonde continued with an aggravated huff, "Asshole just does whatever the hell he wants, acting like some… king of the castle, or something! You agree, right?"

Once again, Akira's phone buzzed in his pocket. "I wouldn't know," he gave his clipped answer, hoping to put an end to the conversation there so he could move on with his day.

Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect. The other student's eyes narrowed and his expression pinched as he crossed his arms.

"...You don't know Kamoshida? Are- Are you for real?"

Akira thought that over. Recalling the fact that both this guy and the girl before recognized Kamoshida. Moreover, it appeared that Kamoshida was someone he was supposed to know, and since he was by all intents a Shujin student at the moment… then there was the tracksuit he was wearing…

"He's the gym teacher, right?" Akira answered, not really caring whether he got it right or not.

He blinked, "Tch… Yeah I guess you could call him that. Asshole doesn't give a shit about anything but his volleyball team though."

Ignoring the vulgar slights, Akira nodded. Close enough.

"...I don't recognize you. And you're in my year, huh?" The boy's aggressive front seemed to have mellowed out at this point as he looked Akira up and down, eyes briefly alighting on the school crest on his blazer. "You a transfer student, or something?"

A simple nod.

"Well, I guess it makes sense that you wouldn't know Kamoshida then. But I guess his reputation precedes himself…" he spat, grumbling at nothing in particular.

So much animosity… For Akira, who had been used to showing the utmost respect to his superiors, it was a bit surprising to see. It would be easy to write it off as the grievances of a teenager with a teacher who was too hard on him. But… for some reason Akira couldn't.

Well, at least he knew why the teen was so testy. His anger was directed at Kamoshida, not him.

The blonde student shook his head and let his glare fall. Turning away, he gestured flippantly to the new transfer.

"Come on, the rain ain't too bad anymore. As a 'welcome to Shujin,' I'll show you a shortcut so we don't end up late."

"Alright," Akira agreed readily. He had wasted more time than he would have liked to just standing around. Being late on his first day would only bring more undue attention to him. And for all his reservations about the blonde, he at least seemed earnest about this.

The two got as far as a few steps before Akira staggered, a sudden lancing pain erupting in his skull hard enough to stop him on the spot. A hand flew up to cup his head, his eyes pinching shut as he openly grunted.

It persisted. Even when he shook his head and tried to dispel the disorientation, it simply clung to him. Even his skin felt cold and pallid, a distinct feeling of 'wrongness' plaguing him.

The blonde stopped too- both his hands digging into his short hair as he moaned weakly. The two stood still, each fighting against the sudden wave of light-headedness until, within seconds, it vanished- as if it were never there.

"Guh… My head…" the blonde muttered, rubbing his eyes blearily, "Dammit… I just wanna go home already."

On that… they agreed.

...

Keeping in step with his companion as they traversed down the alleyways, Akira couldn't help but warily glance around himself. It was difficult to put to words, but even after the pain faded away Akira couldn't help but feel something was wrong.

His sharp eyes followed every corner and window in the dimly lit alleyway, his mind racing a mile a minute as he tried to figure out what was making him so wary. His guy instincts had rarely led him astray, and he had no reason to believe this was any different. Then he realized it.

_(The wind… It's blowing in the wrong direction.)_

Wind didn't just change like that. Not so quickly, and certainly not into the opposite direction. It was such a stark change that he almost couldn't believe he missed it. He glanced up at his blonde companion, who still trudged along none the wiser.

Maybe… Maybe he was just imagining it. He had been under so much stress lately that it certainly wouldn't be impossible for him to misread his worries.

"What the…" A breathless exclamation from up ahead made Akira round and see his fellow student standing stock-still at the mouth of the alley, his gaze locked upward.

He stepped up to the alley exit beside the blonde and followed his gaze. His eyes widened behind his glasses, and his mouth parted as he found his voice stolen away.

Before them stood a sprawling regal castle built of pitted and scarred stone. It stood, as if conjured directly from a storybook, the sheer size and splendor of the structure was beyond reason or sense. The medieval castle towered above them, nearly reaching the sky with its many levels and spires that seemed to go higher than any skyscraper he had ever seen.

With the darkness of the clouds that seemed to stranglehold the sky and the foreboding atmosphere hanging from the towering forretress, it made for an acutely intimidating and otherworldly sight.

That eerieness was only further pronounced when Akira glanced at the completely normal city buildings around them- the contrast between mundane steel and regal cobblestone utterly stark and confounding.

"What the hell is this…?" the blonde breathed, his jaw hanging loose as he stared up at the castle. He took a triple-take to the alley they just came from. "I… I know we came the right way though…?"

Akira had a bad feeling about this. Igor's cryptic message from the night before came to mind as he gazed upon the castle warily.

"Did… the school get moved or something?" the thuggish blonde chuckled, though it was weak and vulnerable- only a half joke, half question. With the way he was frantically glancing over to him, Akira guessed he was desperately hoping that he would shed some light on this situation or say anything that would at least let it all make sense.

Akira lowered his gaze to the drawbridge at the mouth of the ostentatious castle, and looked at the concrete sign built just before the large moat. He set his jaw and raised a finger.

"This _is_ the school."

His companion followed his finger and finally noticed the sign. True to his words, it read out in no uncertain Kanji: "_Shujin High_."

Unable to refute the evidence, the two lapsed into silence. The blonde seemed at a loss for words, and Akira couldn't really blame him either. After all, he was _just_ here yesterday, and it looked nothing like this. The idea that the school could have undergone such a drastic renovation so quickly was so ludicrous that he didn't even consider it possible for a moment.

There was something more going on here. And with his mind more open to the idea of supernatural forces, he felt he couldn't rule out the possibility of the velvet room playing a part in it.

He would take a more rational answer in a heartbeat. No questions asked. But there _were_ no rational answers for this. None that he could come up with on his own.

Seeing no other options, Akira slipped his hands from his pockets and steeled his resolve. "There's no point staying out here. Let's go in and find out what's happening."

The student seemed surprised by his resolve, but swiftly joined him as he came to the same conclusion, "R-right... Maybe there's someone around we can ask."

Without another word spoken, Akira strided to the drawbridge and crossed it into the pitch black mouth of the massive gate into the castle. The blonde followed him with more hesitance, still unsure about the situation but taking strength in the confidence his fellow student was exuding.

Outside, the bloated thunderclouds in the heavens parted ever so slightly- just enough to reveal the swirling miasma of red, purple, and black that was the sky.

* * *

**Shujin Academy(?)**

**Aoyama District**

Their steps echoed in the posh, overtly regal interior of the castle. Both he and his companion kept a slow, anxious pace as they crossed from domino marble flooring to a massive circular red carpet in the middle of… he could only call it foyer, or some sort of chamber where the peasants would pay fealty to a king in a storybook. Massive gilded marble columns lined the walls, torch scones nailed into their lined surfaces, and an exquisite chandelier hung over their heads- glimmering sapphire jewels dangling from its arms.

"This… This really can't be the school…"

Akira eyed the teen from the corner of his eye, not quite able to look away from the lavish sights, "This has never happened before?"

"Hell no!" the answer was vehement and without a speck of doubt, "Look at all this! This room alone goes up higher than Shujin's second floor I bet! What, did they just destroy all the floors so they could make it?"

He could only agree. Everything about this was utterly wrong. This was Shujin, and yet it wasn't. It bore no resemblance to the school he toured just yesterday, and yet it was located in the exact same place and even had the same headstone.

But, probably most unsettling of all, was the atmosphere the place gave off. It was one he had felt before. It was the feeling of not belonging.

It was as if the castle itself was telling them he didn't belong here and was actively rejecting his presence. The blonde didn't say so, but he obviously got the same feeling as he shakily glanced around as if expecting a jumpscare at any moment.

The other teen's eyes perked up and he whipped his phone out, but as he turned the device on his expression crumpled, "No cell service… Just where the hell are we?"

Akira continued to glance around, the feeling wasn't just uncomfortable- it was actively antagonistic. And it was only growing stronger by the moment.

The vulgar teen pocketed his phone and looked up at him, "Look, can you try-"

"We're not alone." he cut him off, cautiously turning on the spot to stare where he heard the faintest sounds of metal clicking against stone. To his credit, the student only offered him a momentarily incredulous look before he cottoned onto the sound and followed his gaze.

The two stared into the dark recesses of a hallway branching from the chamber, the pitch blackness like a void where the light of the torches could not reach. The storm outside thrummed in time with the clanking of the metal, and before long a monstrously large, lumbering figure emerged from the darkness.

A towering medieval knight trudged up to the student duo, its gleaming set of full plate armor cutting for it an impressive figure. A massive kite shield and claymore hung in its gauntleted hands. The two unusual weapons looking utterly at home in the knights grip.

But most disconcerting of all was the faceplate of its helm- a strange, bluish mask that looked vaguely like a human face. Its eyeless holes, and stern lips gazed down imperiously on them.

Akira forced down the instinctual desire to back away from such an intimidating figure, and instead gazed up at the knight. A small amount of relief filled him. A person. Good. Maybe they could actually get a plausible answer.

The blonde jumped at the appearance, "Jeez dude! You scared the hell out of us!" a relieved, grateful chuckle soon bubbled up from his mouth, "Hah… I thought the whole place was going to be empty! You a student? No… You're way too tall to be one. A teacher? Is that you, Ushimaru-Sensei?"

No answer. Akira frowned, the familiar tension returning with a vengeance now as the knight glared at the two stone-faced.

The blonde didn't get the memo, and stepped up close to the armored paladin, "Man, this armor is impressive… Is it real?" He rapped the back of his hand against the shield, eliciting a dull ringing that echoed across the chamber.

"..."

Both Akira and the vulgar teen stared up at the knight who still remained utterly impassive. If he hadn't seen the knight walk up top them, he almost would have assumed the set of armor was empty.

The blonde turned back to Akira with a baffled look, and shot a thumb back at the knight, "Is this dude deaf?"

Akira gasped, "Watch out!"

He barely got a chance to turn around before the knight swung his shield up and brought the hunk of steel crashing down against his face. The impact rang through the room, blood and spit filling the air as the brutal strike threw the teen straight onto his back. He let out a cry of agony, the blow so fearsome that he nearly blacked out on the spot.

Clutching his face on a knee, he shakily held out his hand and gaped at the blood smeared on it. Red gushed a steady stream down from his nose, he clutched it futilely to stymie the flow.

"What… What the hell man?!" He roared, turning to glare hotly at the knight. "What was that for?!"

Still as silent as the grave, the only answer the knight gave was raising its shield high over its head. This time the teen needed no warning, his eyes widened comically and without missing a beat he threw himself into a haphazard backward roll to get away. It was just in time. The moment he got away, the knight brought it's shield crashing down like a guillotine where he just stood- the strike hard enough to pierce the air with a shriek of metal on marble.

They backed away with eyes widened in horror as small pebbles of debris pelted them. The blonde looked suitably pale at his brush with almost certain death, his terrified eyes locked on the menacing shield as the giant knight wrenched it from the divot in the ground with a hollow grunt.

"H-hey…" the student rasped, his legs trembling now as the knight pulled itself up to its full, fearsome height, "what's goin' on here?!"

Akira lifted his fists and glared the armored man down. Neither of them had a clue what was happening, but it was clear as day that this was no prank. They were in very real danger right now.

More metallic report filled his ears, and Akira cursed. "There's more than one," he grunted, looking uneasy as he glanced to the side- unwilling to let the knight out of his sight fully.

The darkness behind the pillars in the chamber evaporated to reveal another knight in the exact same regalia and bearing the same menacing weapons. It advanced on them with its purposeful steps and slammed the tip of its blade on the ground before them and dragged it along the marble with a shrill squeal.

A deep gouge scarred the floor, like drawing a line in the sand. Both Akira and his companion jumped back, the aggressive action making its intentions clear.

The two students slowly backed away, the knights now shoulder-to-shoulder as they took almost militant steps toward them. "C-calm down! Time out, man! This joke isnt fucking funny anymore!"

Akira snagged his shoulder, forcing him to see the grave worry in his eyes. "We need to run!" he barked, eyes darting between the knights and the entryway they came from.

"R-right! These guys are crazy. Let's get the hell out of here!"

The two turned instantly, and set off at a dead sprint toward the ostentatious mouth of the castle. Their breaths came out hot and panicked as they swung their legs hard, the marble surroundings doing wonders in echoing the noises back to them eerily. The sound of heavy metal steps made it clear that their aggressors had now become pursuers.

The blonde was… slower than he expected. Slow enough that Akira would easily overtake him if he ran with all his might. Being unwilling to leave him behind, Akira greatly slowed his pace so that he would be behind the student. A position that allowed him to watch their rear and keep the blonde moving.

Even still, their pace was fast, and it was not long before the gleaming archway to the outside world revealed itself.

The vulgar student could have grinned at the sight, but his heavy panting and slight limp made him worry if he would even be able to make it all the way. Giving into the gnawing fear in his chest, he hazarded a glance behind himself and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the knights were a good handful of paces behind them- unable to keep up due to their heavy armor.

Unfortunately, the moment his attention shifted away disaster struck. From up ahead, another gleaming knight materialized from behind a marble pillar- jumping out directly into their path with its shield raised.

With his attention behind him and Akira's warning arriving too late, the blonde was completely unprepared for the knight to give him a full body-check with the brunt of its shield. The bash was heavy enough to lift him clear off his feet, empty his lungs, and send his eyes rolling into the back of his head. Pounds of steel crashed directly into him, robbing him of all his momentum in the cruelest way possible.

The knight followed through, throwing him to the ground with a choked scream of agony before he passed out- body going limp as he ragdolled to the floor.

Akira bared his teeth, and moved to get his unconscious companion away from the bloodthirsty paladin. However, before he could reach him the teen was forced to quickly leap out of the way as another unseen knight brought its silvery blade crashing down in his path, cutting another deep gouge into the marble.

"Damn it! What the hell is wrong with you people?!" Akira growled, his fists held up protectively as he darted his eyes to the many knights surrounding him. He counted four, each the same daunting height and stature, but he couldn't be sure there weren't more lurking in the corners. The escape route was cut off, and a knight was blocking him off from reaching the blonde too.

It was a testament to his will that he didn't let fear overtake him in the moment.

None of the knights approached immediately, they just slowly closed into a tight circle that negated any hope of running away.

With an enemy on every side, the odds had been heavily stacked against him. Akira's feet shifted and his focus sharpened heavily- constantly eyeing his opponents and waiting for the shoe to drop.

He spotted it the moment he made another full turn on the spot, the shield of one of the knights had a surface just polished enough that he was able to glimpse his reflection in it. He saw himself, and the knight directly behind him that silently raised its shield high above its head.

There was no time to turn. With explosive force, Akira thrust his arm backward and caught the shield with his shoulder and forearm before it could come crashing down on him. The jarring force rattled his skeleton, and made him wince, but he held strong and completely stopped the knights assault.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Akira could have sworn he felt surprise ripple through the ranks of the soldiers. The overbearing force of the shield faltered ever so slightly, and he immediately jumped on the opportunity by shoving the shield away with a roar. The knight lost its balance, its shield dropping from its hands as it staggered away. Not one to give up the advantage easily, Akira spun on the spot and delivered a fierce roundhouse directly into its side, right where its breastplate barely covered its ribs.

The ferocious kick floored the knight instantly, but it only looked briefly dazed and was already climbing back to its feet, while Akira's leg stung from the blow.

"Real armor… What the hell…?"

Not only were they incredibly strong, but they were resilient too. Things were only looking grimmer.

Akira did not stray on those thoughts for long, that wasn't his only opponent and the others would not tarry for long. Spinning back around, his awareness was rewarded with two knights rushing him down on his left and right with their shields raised. He cursed, loudly, and thrust his hands out in their paths.

**-BAM-**

Two shields crashed into his palms, one for each hand. This time his bones howled in agony as he was nearly crushed between the two mountains of steel- both knights pressing down on him as if they were trying to flatten him between their shields. It was only the trembling struggle of his arms that kept them from killing him on the spot.

For a moment, he held strong against their weight. But the knights were smart, and before he could even begin to think of a way out of this predicament the final knight strode directly toward his front- in the open space between the two shields pressing on him.

Akira growled like an animal. With his arms restrained to keep himself safe, he could do absolutely nothing as the knight reared its bare gauntlet back and delivered a hook straight into his gut.

"Kuuahh!"

All the air left his lungs with a garbled noise of agony. Akira staggered away, the knights relenting with their shields so he could unceremoniously collapse to a knee and clutch his stomach. His eyelids flickered, consciousness waning while a pain unlike any other racked his being. His stomach felt like it was trying to tear itself to pieces, and every harsh intake of breath only wracked him further.

The knights closed in. He cursed his weakness bitterly- the pain making him unable to even lift a finger to protect himself. A knight snatched him up by his frizzy hair, pulling his back straight and eliciting a yowl of pain while the being forced him to stare into its cavernous eye holes. He returned the stare with more fury than he had felt in a long time, promising destruction everlasting with his stare where his words faltered.

The knight wasn't impressed. And with only a flick of his wrist, sent Akira's head hurtling into the marble floor hard enough to crack the ground and immediately render him unconscious.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Split into two chapters for your viewing pleasure. **


	5. Chapter 1-3

**?**

**?**

"Hey…"

Akira groaned weakly at the voice piercing the veil of darkness, his head throbbing painfully as he pinched his eyes shut and tried to shake the ringing from his mind. He felt as though someone had cracked his skull wide open and dug around inside his brain. It was a task just to focus on his breathing.

Within moments, the pain faded to a dull throb behind his eyes. But in its place, a foreboding sense of anxiety kept picking at his nerves- demanding his attention.

"Hey! Come on, dude… wake up!"

Eyes shot wide open with a bang and Akira launched up with grit teeth and tense muscles- the memories of the bloodthirsty knights resurfacing as he readied himself for an attack from any angle. He cursed himself for falling so easily, but he would be damned if he let himself be taken off guard again.

A hand grabbed his stiff arm, and an anxious face appeared in his blurry vision before he could leap to his feet. "Woah, dude! It's okay, it's just me!"

Akira blinked slowly, trying to recall the face in his half-lucid state.

(_Oh… It's the blonde guy._)

Glancing around, he saw it was just the two of them. No knights in sight. Instead of the regal antechamber from before, their new surroundings appeared to be a rather cramped room made up of distended stone and bronze struts along the ceiling. Unsettling metal manacles hung high along the walls, and the far wall was made up of steel gate and thick metal bars.

Pain lanced through his head, and Akira dropped all the tension in his muscles to grip his head with a hiss of annoyance. Knowing that he was (relatively) safe, there was little to distract him from the throb in his skull.

The blonde pulled back from him and stood up, "You alright man?"

Akira cautiously felt his face over. From what he could tell, there was a fairly large gash over his right eye and his lip was split. He wasn't bleeding, thankfully, but there were a good few streaks of dried blood that crumbled away as he brushed over them.

And his glasses were still perched on his nose without a scratch on them. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that.

"My head feels like it's going to burst," he drawled, not joking in the slightest as he sent a sideways look to the blonde, noting the scratch on his nose and how he seemed to favor his left side, "are _you_ alright?"

"I feel like I got run over. But… I'm all right."

He gave an attempt at rolling a shoulder, but winced and stopped the effort. Akira felt for him- he had seen the impact he had taken, it wasn't pretty, and it was honestly impressive he could even stand after it.

The blonde heaved a groan and leaned his back against the stone wall, a deep pensive frown on his face as he gazed at the iron bars.

"Looks like this ain't no dream…" he muttered, "Damn it… What the hell is going on?"

He turned to the seated Akira, his expression vulnerable and lost, "Maybe we accidentally stumbled onto a TV set, or somethin'?"

"Do you really think so?" Akira asked blandly. The headache faded, and whatever remained he was able to staunchly ignore. Standing up, he took a deep breath and focused through the anxiety in his chest. Panic would not help here. It rarely ever did.

"No…" the blonde muttered, remembering the sheer bloodthirst behind the knight's attacks on them. "No I don't."

It was as he thought, there was something seriously wrong about all this and the sooner he figured out _what_ it was the better. His eyes roved around the dinky room, taking in his surroundings with calculating interest.

The stone was thick and air-tight. Not a single way out save for the single door at the end of the room. He approached it and glanced curiously between the bars, though failed to see much other than more aged cobblestone within the gloom. Though he felt that he could almost make out the sound of rushing water from beyond the gate, like a flowing river.

"I've tried the door, but it's locked tight." the blonde called to him, seemingly examining the rusty chains lining the walls with apprehension, "And I've been shouting through 'em for anyone out there until you started to wake up"

"There's no one out there?"

He only shrugged, "Nope. Or, if there is, they ain't answering."

Akira tested the door all the same and huffed when the lock didn't even let the door budge an inch. In contrast to the disrepair of the cell and the little furniture it had, the mighty padlock seemed brand new.

(_It's not gonna budge. Not without a key… There's gotta be some way to get out of here._)

The two spent the next few minutes scouring the tiny cell for a means of escape. But no matter how they looked, the room remained frustratingly barren of anything useful. The longer they looked, the further their spirits dropped and the bleaker their prospects looked. Even still, they soldiered on until every square inch of the room was double-checked.

The thuggish teenager gave up first. With an irritated yell, he kicked an empty barrel and collapsed onto the dirty wooden bed with a huff. Akira likewise gave up, joining him on the seat with his annoyance seeping out through his displeased frown.

"This doesn't make any freakin' sense… What's up with this dungeon? And- and those knights?! They were seriously trying to kill us back there!"

Akira only shrugged silently. Even if he were to accept that some supernatural force was at work here, he couldn't even begin to comprehend what it was; why it would take the form of the school, or the form of knights, or covet their demise so much.

He would have some choice words for Igor, should they ever meet again.

"When I get out of here…"

**GRrrrr…**

The blonde jumped, and whipped around to send him a wide-eyed look. Akira looked more annoyed than embarrassed as he looked down at his stomach.

"I didn't have breakfast," he answered the unspoken question without a hint of embarrassment, "Was going to grab something before classes, then all this happened."

Letting loose a genuine chuckle, the blonde leaned over into his discarded school bag and pulled out two wrapped packages and offered him one.

"I feel you. Here. It would be pretty lame if we survived evil knights and you ended up passing out from hunger. Think of it as an apology for nearly knockin' you over this morning."

Scrutinizing him and seeing only honest intentions, Akira took the food with a nod, "Thank you."

"Its nothin'."

The two ate in silence. The protein bar was rather chalky, and didn't taste all that great, but it was filling and helped take his mind off their predicament. Slipping his phone out of his pocket, Akira hummed through the bar between his teeth as he navigated his phone screen.

True to his companion's earlier discovery, there was no cell service available. But beyond that, what was stranger was that no apps were reacting to his touch. Every application he tapped gave no indication that it registered the touch. Was this place somehow messing with the firmware of his phone? At this point, he wouldn't even be that surprised.

Then there was that damnable piercing eye app, which was once again snuggled up in the corner of his home screen. Strangely, this time the app wasn't giving off any distortion on his phone and almost seemed… inert. Tapping it did nothing, and the phone didn't even allow him to attempt erasing it.

"Oh, yeah. I just realized I don't even know your name, dude." Akira pocketed his phone when the blonde addressed him again, seemingly calmer now, "I dunno how long we're gonna be stuck in here, but i'd rather not call you 'dude' or 'guy' the whole time."

Continuing on, he gave a big smirk, "The names Sakomoto Ryuji."

"Dragon, huh? ...That's a strong name."

"It is, ain't it!" he seemed proud of the fact, if his toothy grin was to go by.

For a moment, the danger they were in was forgotten, Akira gave him an appreciative nod and an outstretched hand, "Akira. Tetsu Akira. Nice to meet you, Ryuji."

Ryuji took his hand and gave it a firm shake, "Nice to meet ya, Akira."

Maybe he had been wary of Ryuji for nothing. He certainly dressed and acted like a thug, but he wasn't a bad person at all. A little vulgar, sure, but compared to the people Akira was used to associating with, he was damn near a saint.

More importantly, Akira would never dream of rejecting Ryuji just because of how he looked or acted. He would admit to being wary of him because of past experiences with thugs and a bordering paranoid desire to avoid unwanted attention, but he would never let himself be swayed by prejudices or biases toward a person.

So long as Ryuji met him half-way, he was more than willing to be on amicable terms with him.

Seemingly invigorated by the normal conversation, Ryuji scarfed down the last of his protein bar and launched himself to his feet. Stuffing his hands in his pockets and adopting his usual slouched posture, he sent Akira a fiery look.

"I'm feeling all fired up now! Let's keep looking for a way out of here. Maybe if we charge at the same time we can bust that door down!"

Akira wasn't confident in that working, not with how the lock looked when he checked it. But Ryuji's enthusiasm was infectious, and he found himself tossing away his wrapper as he stood- ready to give anything a try if it got them out of here.

**Clunk… Clunk…**

Their enthusiasm died an ugly death when that familiar sound reached their ears. Both Akira and Ryuji took on pensive, anxious stances as the sound of metal on stone grew until the silhouettes of lumbering figures appeared outside their cell doors. The harsh sound of marching halted when finally the figures stepped into the light, revealing them to be the same knights from before, the unnerving blue masks still adorned.

"So much for that…" Ryuji grumbled, forcing a front of bravado in the face of the people that nearly slaughtered them both.

"Be glad that your punishment has been decided upon, ingrates."

Both the teens jumped when one of the knights spoke, talking down to them like they were insects.

"Your charge is unlawful entry," The knight continued, his hauntingly deep voice permeating the darkness of the room as his empty eyes bored into their own. "Thus, you will be sentenced to death."

"S-say what?!" Ryuji gaped, his eyes shooting wide open.

Akira's reaction was just as incredulous, if far more volatile, "What!?"

He… he had to have heard that wrong.

"Nobody is allowed to do as they please in _my_ castle." Another voice entered the fray of confusion and horror, stealing the teens attention as the knights parted like grass to let the new towering figure stroll right up to the cell door. The eerily dissonant voice shearing the tension in the air like a blade.

With a familiar mop of curly hair, strong chin and self-satisfied smirk, Kamoshida, the gym teacher from the morning, parted the army of soldiers to glare imperiously down on the two prisoners. Except, unlike when Akira had spotted him earlier, the track suit was nowhere to be found. Instead, the gym teacher was now dressed in nothing but a pair of regal slippers, a crimson heart-embossed mantle, golden crown, and a pair of purple boxers; his hairy legs on full display.

But the most startling difference of all was the haunting yellow glow of his eyes as he glared at them. They glowed such an unnaturally irradiant gold that Akira could scarcely look away. It was nearly the same yellow that Caroline and Justine, the twins from the velvet room dream, had. He couldn't ask for a greater clue that something was seriously wrong here.

"Huh? Wait… Is that you, Kamoshida?"

"Oh." Kamoshida, drawled. His regal and imperious air falling in favor of bold-faced distaste as he glared at Ryuji, "It's _you_, Sakomoto. I suppose I should have known a troublemaker like you would be the one. Are you that eager to disobey me again?" the distaste warped into a derisive smirk, "It looks like you haven't learned your lesson at all…"

Ryuji snarled, and seemed one step away from charging at Kamoshida regardless of the bars separating them. Akira glanced between the two, confusion bubbling up inside him at the odd exchange. If he put aside how oddly Kamoshida was acting for now, he could see that there was some history between him and Ryuji.

(_Disobey him again…?_)

Kamoshida's eyes skirted over to him, displaying just as much disdain, Akira silently returning it with a calculating glare, "And you brought a friend this time too. Of course. Because you can't do _anything_ right yourself."

_That_ line struck a chord with Ryuji, who's face instantly went red with anger as he lunged forward and grabbed the cell bars.

"This ain't funny, you asshole! Th' hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Is that how you speak to a king?" Kamoshida barked hotly, "You really don't understand the position you're in at all. Not only did you break into **my** castle, you committed the crime of insulting me: the king!"

His lips curled into a sly smirk, as he brushed a hand under his strong chin. "For that, the punishment is **death**."

Ryuji backed away, his face aghast at the sheer cruelty behind the words. For a moment, he hoped that some semblance of normality would return with the sight of a familiar face- even if it belonged to the bastard Kamoshida- but once again his hopes were dashed with the nearly insane statement of the clearly deranged man.

"S-stop joking around, you bastard!"

"I grow tired of this prattle!" Kamoshida roared, throwing a hand out like a soldier declaring a death charge on a battlefield, "It's time for an execution! Guards!"

It truly was as if he were a king commanding his loyal knights to do his bidding. The moment the echoing command was finished, the swarthy armored grunts straightened up and stomped up to the cell doors. Both Akira and Ryuji backed away to the far wall as they undid the lock, slammed the door open, and filed in- their massive frames blocking any hope of getting past them.

The front-most knight seized Ryuji by his shirt, the teen gasping in pain as he dragged him all the way to the end of the room and slammed him up against the wall. Akira scowled and lurched forward to aid him, but two more knights brandishing their shields in his path made it all but impossible.

"Gah!" Ryuji choked, the metal gauntlet pinning him to the wall sealing up his windpipe. Snarling through the pain, Ryuji's legs kicked and his hands clawed as he tried to get the fearsome grip off of him.

In retaliation to his struggle, the knight simply pulled his arm back and slammed him into the wall again. A rattling blow that would likely knock the fight out of anyone on the receiving end.

So it was a grand surprise when Ryuji roared through the pain and used the rebound of the blow to finally gain the small amount of leverage he needed to throw his legs up and firmly plant his tennis shoes against the knight's expressionless mask.

"Get… OFFA ME!" screaming out all his frustration, Ryuji's legs cannonballed against the metal mask with enough force to send the knight careening to the floor like a ragdoll. The ear-ringing sound of metal crashing against stone filled the air as the knight sprawled.

Ryuji fell to the floor, struggling to catch his breath and pushing himself to his feet. He seemed just as shocked by what he managed to do as the knight did, but there was no time for him to even question it as another knight strode up to him to fill in the gap left by the first one.

"I am NOT down for this shit! Get outta my way!" he cried, rushing the knight down in a tackle.

However, the knight was ready this time. Bracing itself, Ryuji crashed straight into his body to no avail- it didn't even appear to flinch from the force. It simply grasped Ryuji's shoulders tightly to make sure he held still, then drove its knee straight into his stomach hard enough to lift him straight off the ground.

"Ryuji!"

Akira tried to shove the knights aside to get to his companion to no avail, his stony facade cracking with worry as he saw Ryuji keel under the knight towering over him.

"Nnghh… You bastards…" Ryuji weakly grasped his stomach, all the fight drained from his body. He sent Akira a desperate look.

Akira returned the stare with clenched teeth, his eyes darting to the four knights still standing strong. No matter how he looked at it, the odds were just too stacked against him. He wasn't strong enough to harm them, not with that armor. And with the soldier keeping him at bay with their long blade, all he could do was seethingly glare at them.

His arms shook with barely restrained vitriol, his burning instincts urging him to do something but his instinct stopping him short. He scowled at the blade inches from his neck, cursing his inability for what seemed like the thousandth time today.

"What's the matter? Too scared to run away?" Kamoshida addressed him, earning himself the razor-sharp focus of the Ex-Yakuza. His eyes were dulled behind his glasses, but still ferocious as he met Kamoshida's eerie eyes.

"Keep that peasant out of my way, and hold this one down!" Kamoshida ordered as he strided in, completely ignoring Akira as he turned to the floored Ryuji and beckoned his knights to drag him to his feet, "I'll focus on his execution first…"

Within moments, the knights had manhandled the two teens to where they desired, both unable to resist for the moment. Akira was by the wall with the manacles, a sword point hovering uncomfortably close to his throat, while Ryuji was the same on the other side of the room- the knights forcing him to his knees as he pitifully fought against their ironclad grips.

Kamoshida jauntily walked up to Ryuji, a deranged gleam in his eye as he grinned down on him. Ryuji went to snarl up at him in pure hatred, but then the deranged gym teacher's slipper landed squarely in his stomach and eviscerated any hope of fighting back.

"Lowly scum!" a barrage of cruel blows ensued. A kick to the stomach, a backhand across the face, a stomp on top of the head, and another kick. Each one just as viscous as the last, and each one punctuated by Kamoshido's black-hearted jeers and insults, "Useless pest!"

Akira didn't move, but the sheer darkness falling over his eyes made it clear how pissed he was at seeing the torture of someone who was clearly unable to fight back.

A final blow elicited a cry of pain from the teen, the knights finally releasing his shoulders and allowing him to bonelessly fall to the ground. Bruises dotted his face and arms, and the way he clutched his stomach made it clear he could barely even move. He barely even seemed conscious.

"Feh." Kamoshida spat on his head, and Ryuji could barely muster the strength to clench his teeth in anger at that, "Where'd all that defiance from earlier go? ...Bring him to his feet."

The knights immediately obeyed, their steel gauntlets seizing Ryuj's arms once more and hauling him to his feet. His head lolled dazedly, but he soon stilled in horror as a blade came to rest beside his neck.

If possible, the tension in the air only became thicker. Ryuji's face grew ashen, and he gulped weakly against the blade- the sharp edge slicing a tiny line in the flesh of his throat as he began to tremble.

"I've grown tired of seeing your face, Sakamoto. I'll have you executed right now and purge your unsightly presence from my castle once and for all."

"Have you lost your mind?"

Kamoshida paused, his sadistic grin falling as he turned and sent Akira a deadly glare, his annoyance and ire rising another level at the untimely interruption.

Akira wasn't fazed in the least. He had seen far more fearsome, if less strange, sights in his life. The toxic yellow glare was unnerving, but he would not be cowed in the face of it.

"Where do you get off beating someone who can't even fight back? Aren't you supposed to be a teacher?"

Kamoshida only rolled his eyes at his accusation, "A teacher? No, you impudent brat, I am something far greater. A **king**! And as a king, I can beat on who I please _when_ I please!"

"The unwashed masses should be tripping over themselves to get on their knees and serve me! My word is LAW. I do not ask for things: I take them! When I beat on impudent fools they should thank me for deigning to sully my hands on personally educating them!"

"You are obviously an uneducated knave, so shut your mouth brat!" King Kamoshida continued, openly seething now as he whipped his gaudy cape to the side with a vicious gesture, "After I deal with Sakamoto, you're next!"

Kamoshida turned his back on him with an imperious scoff, advancing on the restrained and beaten Ryuji once more.

Madness. That was the only way Akira could possibly describe it. As he listened to the tirade of vile words that could only belong to someone with a mind destroyed by delusion, Akira realized that there was no getting through to him. He didn't know what could cause someone to become so dangerously unhinged, but one thing was very clear; if he didn't do anything _now_, Ryuji would be murdered in cold blood right in front of him.

A stranger he may be, but he would _never_ stand by passively when he could do something to stop it. Nobody deserved to die on such a flippant whim, and certainly not to an unhinged monster like this.

Akira eyed the blade at his throat, his hawlike eyes climbing across the sharpened gold trim along it's blade, up the fearsome metal gauntlet, and finally to rest on the blue mask of the knight holding him at bay. Like the others, this knight had a good foot over him in height- and the sheer bulk of its body was like a mountain.

The thick armor would make harming him almost impossible, but… it would also slow them down. Reduce their reaction time. Akira shifted slightly against the brick wall, his fingers beginning to twitch and curl in preparation.

"Look me in the eye while i'm talking to you!" Kamoshida roared, raising his hand and striking Ryuji across the cheek. The slap echoed through the room, and in that instant Akria acted.

Faster than anyone could react, Akira lunged forward- his fingers lashing out like twin vipers to grab a hold of the gauntlet leveling the blade at him. Pulling with all his strength, Akira yanked both the knight and blade straight toward himself.

Stone shattered and metal shrieked as the blade pierced the cobblestone wall just beside Akira's chest, only missing its mark by the barest of inches. The knight grunted in shock, its weapon now trapped in the wall where it was effectively useless. With one quick, utterly flawless maneuver, Akira had forced the knight into a position where he had to decide whether to abandon his weapon or try to pull it out- something that would take time.

And time was something Akira would not allow him.

In that moment of hesitation, Akira struck- his hands once more grasped the gauntlet of the knight and lifted with all his strength. The armored limb rose high into the air, Akira's ironclad grasp on its wrist forcing the appendage to remain raised precariously above the knight's head.

Then Akira raised his free hand, torqued his body, and drove his elbow straight into the knight's unarmored armpit like a hammer striking a nail home. Every ounce of his strength was put behind the blow, and it showed in how the knight's body immediately locked up.

The armpit was the most squishy and unprotected part of any person's body, this was true. But it was also best stated that the armpit was home to all the nerves for the arm. Getting punched or poked there is almost universally an unpleasant experience.

Taking a full force elbow there?

He didn't stand a chance.

Immediately all the strength left the body of the paladin. His legs gave out from underneath him, and he toppled helplessly to the side as a pitiful keening whine drifted from its mask. He hit the ground with a mighty thud, attracting the gazes of all in the room as they finally realized what happened.

Kamoshida looked between him and the floored knight with a wide, flabbergasted stare- unable to understand how he brought a fully armored paladin to its knees so quickly. One moment he was restrained handily with the threat of death, and now his knight was near comatose while the boy stood unharmed.

The other knights, however, were not distracted for long. Within moments, blades were raised menacingly and two more of the soldiers began to cautiously advance on him.

Akira ignored their advance, instead he raised a leg and steadied a shoe on the blade trapped in the wall beside him. With only a silent grunt, he used the blade hilt to springboard himself up high enough to almost brush the ceiling of the cramped room.

Reaching out, Akira grasped tightly onto the manacles and chains bolted into the wall, the metal links wrapping around his fist as he began to fall back to the ground. His insistent tug and the force of gravity proved too much for the rusted bolts keeping the manacles pinned to the wall, and with a shower of stone and dust Akira _ripped_ the iron chains out of the wall with a whipping flourish that forced the advancing knights back.

Metal links clinked ominously as Akira landed once more, his expression stony as he slowly stood straight and began wrapping the chains around his fist and arm, his gaze piercing through the knights who hesitated and dithered in a tight semicircle around him.

He ignored how they all began leveling their blades and shields at him, instead focusing on winding the thick iron chains up and over his knuckles, across his arm, under his elbow… until the entire length of steel was wrapped firmly around the length of his arm like an impromptu gauntlet.

"Now…" he murmured, flexing his fingers and setting a chilly glare on the soldiers restraining Ryuji, who, by now, was staring at him in awe. "Lets see how tough that armor really is."

…

"What the hell are you peons waiting for?! Get him!"

One knight broke from the circle in a dead sprint, its blade descending like a hammer toward the Ex-Yakuza, threatening to split him in twain only for Akira to jump to the side at the last moment, ducking aside and circling away from the wall with ease. Twisting his wrist, the knight only grunted and spun into a horizontal slash that was likewise ducked.

Two more wild slashes, and each failed to reach its mark. With the ungainly surroundings and Akira's own far superior speed, it seemed to be a pipe dream to land even a glancing blow on him.

"Just hold still you-!" On that final, ineffective slice, Akira took his chance. As the knight drew his weapon back for another attack, Akira's hand lashed out and snatched a hold on his elbow. Using the grip as leverage, the teen used the knight's elbow to pull himself toward him and _spin_ around him like a running back twirling around a lineman.

It did little against the weight of the knight, but the spin gave Akira the extra force he needed to snap his leg out and deliver a truly devastating soccer kick directly into the back of his knee.

He crumpled to his knees with an inhuman moan of anguish, the blade slipping from his gauntlet and clattering uselessly to the floor.

Not letting up for an instant, Akira reeled his fist back and shot it forward with all his strength to drive his fist, chain links and all, directly into the blue mask. The punch was so powerful that it dragged the knight all the way to the floor, pinning his head between the unforgiving stone and the metal chains wrapped around his knuckles.

If it was just the punch alone, his head may have snapped backward and he would have reeled. But with their skull pinned to the floor, there was no way for them to diminish the force being driven straight into their face. With a loud **SNAP**, both the mask and floor beneath it cracked like an eggshell and the knight's body fell limp.

Akira cautiously stepped away, staring at the silent form of the knight and wondering if he had taken it too far. They may have been trying to kill him, but that didn't mean he had any intention of stooping to their level.

Before he could worry any further, Akira saw it. There, along the cracked seams of the mask, something was seeping out. In the gloom of the prison it was difficult to make out, but from what Akira could see it appeared to be some sort of inky, ichorous... black fluid. Like tar, oozing out of the cracks in its mask like blood would. Stringy rivulets of black intermingled in a web that slowly seeped to the floor where, when it splotched down, it began to hiss and steam ominously.

"What the hell…?"

There was no time to question it, already two more knights were moving in to accost him and Akira was back into a deadly dance. But the knight's were shaken after seeing one of their own brought down so viciously. Their sword strokes were more haphazard and desperate, inaccurate and easily avoided. And Akira had no qualms with capitalizing and punishing them for their mounting fear.

A ducked horizontal slash, and a manacle wrapped fist driven into a stomach-plate hard enough to send fissuring cracks across the surface. A blade parried along the length of the metal links on his arm, and an elbow sent directly under an armored chin hard enough to split a mask almost straight down the middle.

The knight's were falling, slowly but surely. In the cramped cell, they were unable to use their overwhelming numbers to their advantage. And with Akira's weapon, their armor was more a hindrance than a help.

But with every facemask cracked, and every pauldron shattered, Akira became more and more aware of the inky black substance dripping to fill the cracks in the floor. By now, all the knight's were 'bleeding' the disgusting tar.

"King Kamoshida demands that you kneel peasant! He will have your hea-!"

**-CRUNCH-**

"Holy shit…" Ryuji murmured weakly, clutching his bruised shoulder as he watched Akira take an entire retinue of knight's to task.

He didn't know what to make of the slightly intimidating Shujin student when he had first met him, but he would never have imagined him as someone who could go toe to toe with these armored behemoths and come out on _top_.

It truly was like watching a work of art- every single strike and dodge Akira made was filled with nothing but utter confidence, an assurity and lack of hesitation that led him to tearing through ranks and knocking them down one by one.

Yes, it was art, but it was far from beautiful. While his movements were fluid and assured, they were far from graceful. Every single action he took was filled with nothing but ferocity- every blow made to be as punishing and crippling as possible.

Ryuji winced as he watched one of the knight's knee cave in. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was really glad he had not been in a bad enough mood to pick a fight with him this morning.

"Pathetic…" Ryuji winced when Kamoshida growled from behind him, the ill-garbed king stalking back into view with a truly livid expression. "Is it so much to ask for my loyal knights to handle _one_ measly child?!"

Just as Ryuji expected the mad tyrant to blow his lid, an odd veneer of calm fell over him. One moment Kamoshida's face was stark red and veins visibly pulsed along his neck, and the next he was smirking smugly as he twirled a strand of his ugly hair.

"No matter. If you want something done right…"

Raising his hand up in front of himself, Kamoshida gave a small grunt and flex of his fingers- the air shuddering between his fingers for a moment before suddenly blooming into a burst of red flame that ignited the air around him with fizzling sparks. Seated in the palm of his hand a large mass of red and black energy roiled and spasmed like a wild flame.

Ryuji gaped openly at the sight, completely taken aback by the unbelievably strange flame that seemed to appear from nowhere.

Just looking at it made him feel sick… and the awful expression on Kamoshida's yellow eyed face only made it worse.

"You do it yourself."

Akira panted, his chest heaving as he held his hands out protectively in front of himself to ward off the persistent knight's hounding him. Although he had the upper hand, the soldiers were still far too durable and numerous for him to make any serious headway.

Four knights still warded him away from the cell gate, and more than a few lucky blows had left tiny slashes dotting his arms and legs- leaving him to slowly leak blood over himself as he fought.

He backed away as they slowly advanced on him. Chancing a look at his arm, Akira clicked his teeth when he found the manacle and chain to be chipped and nearly broken. Time was slowly but surely running out. He needed to make an opening and get him and Ryuji out of here before the situation could escalate any further.

"AKIRA WATCH OUT!"

Akira's eyes widened, and without missing a beat he whipped himself around with his arms instinctively raised to defend himself. But the warning had come far, far too late. And, even if it had come sooner, there was no feasible way that Akira could have stopped what was barreling down on him.

All the wounded teen caught sight of was a bright flash of red and black before what felt like a boulder crashed solidly into his arms and chest. His eyes shot wide, his jaw falling slack as the air was crushed from his lungs and an intense burning sensation began to wreak havoc on his body.

Red sparks and black flames danced around his body as he convulsed on the spot, his every muscle and tendon feeling like they were being torn to shreds. Akira screamed as he crumpled to his knees, his body no longer under his control. It took everything in him just to keep from blacking out under the assault of otherworldly power.

"Bullseye!" Kamoshida crowed, sauntering toward the teen as he convulsed and groaned.

Akira braced himself on the floor, wheezing and panting while his body jolted from the aftershocks still rippling up and down his spine. The world spun and flexed under his clammy hands, and when two knights seized him by his arms and tossed him against the cell wall he honestly thought he would vomit right there.

"Impressive rebellion, you really had my heart racing back there," Kamoshida drawled as he clapped slowly, smirking at the way the teenager had to continuously catch himself on the wall to keep from falling flat on his face. "But I'm afraid this has gone on for far too long for my taste. The next time you want to put on a show for me, be a little more considerate of my time, okay?"

"You…" Akira hissed, but abandoned his words when his body was abruptly wracked with chills. Squeezing his arms the teen fought to keep from screaming. What… what had he been hit with?

"You must be eager for your turn, is that it? Fine then. Your execution is first, and this time there will be **NO** interruptions."

With a grand gesture, Kamoshida waved forward one of his loyal knights. This knight had a long bleeding fissure creeping through its mask, making it look all the more horrific as it loomed over him and brought its fearsome blade to bear.

Akira mustered all his strength to heave himself off the wall and shakily raise his fists once more. But it was more for show than anything. This… this couldn't be happening. He couldn't die here! Not to such a bastard, and not for such a pointless reason!

"Kamoshida! Stop this you bastard! You… You can't do this!" Ryuji roared in rage, but fell to muffled hissing and cursing as a soldier clamped a gauntlet over his mouth.

For once, Kamoshida ignored the screaming. His yellow eyes simply danced with mirth as he watched his executioner draw his blade back.

There were any number of things he could do. Dodge, attack, run away… anything. But his body just wouldn't listen. No matter how hard he strained himself his muscles just remained locked down. Paralyzed. Whatever Kamoshida had hit him with, it had taken everything from him.

Akira's stomach dropped as he watched his fists unfurl, his body giving out despite the rebellious fire in his soul.

**-SHUNK-**

He shivered. Slowly looking down, Akira followed the shiny blade of the knight's sword all the way to his chest. The longsword was pierced wholly into his sternum, his uniform and skin deforming under the blade as blood slowly began to leak and drip to the floor. His hands hovered shakily over the protruding weapon, his eyes wide with disbelief and horror.

The room fell silent. Ryuji stared at him with abject horror, Kamoshida's cruel grin threatened to crack his face, and the knight's loomed silently. All that could be heard were the shaky breaths seeping from Akira's mouth, and the sound of blood slowly plopping to the floor.

The blade twisted, prying a raspy gasp from the teen as his flesh was torn further. Then, with little fanfare, the executioner adjusted his grip and promptly ripped his blade from its victim's chest with an appalling downward slash- widening the gash even further and nearly gutting Akira right there.

For a moment, Akira just stood there. Staring blankly as his lifeblood poured out in earnest onto the dirtied cobbles. But it wasn't long before his limbs grew cold and numb, and his thoughts began to fall silent.

Kamoshida grinned at the sight. Relishing in an execution that he rarely ever got to indulge in. The teen had been quite the annoyance, so seeing him cut down was quite the pleasure. But that self-satisfied grin soon dropped.

"W-what…?"

Fighting through the coldness, Akira stepped forward. His legs were shaky and his eyes were unfocused, but he managed it all the same. Blood continued to freely pour from his weeping wound, as he made another step, then another…

Before finally crumpling forward, his body flopping bonelessly to the floor and his head bouncing off the ground.

All eyes were on his face down form, watching and waiting as a puddle of red began to grow beneath it. But no more movements were forthcoming. Akira remained utterly motionless, not even a twitch able to be divined in his limbs.

Kamoshida swallowed, his cocky grin slowly returning with the pest down for good.

"Well… That wasn't nearly as fun as I expected," Kamoshida huffed in annoyance, "So much for all that resistance. He died no different than a roach would."

"My lord," A knight approached him, dragging with him a shell-shocked Ryuji who couldn't take his eyes off the corpse of his acquaintance. "Shall we continue with this one's execution?"

Kamoshida eyed Ryuji up and down, noting how blue in the face he looked and the tremors rocking through his body. He was horrified, his will completely broken after witnessing an execution in such vivid detail.

Looking back at the body on the floor, the king hummed. It was true that he had wanted to kill Ryuji, but… now, after finally executing someone, he found it didn't quite live up to his expectations. It was exhilarating, yes, but the novelty of it wore off rather quickly. There was little fun to it, and with how broken Ryuji's spirit was, his execution would probably be even more pathetic.

"No…" Kamoshida decided, shaking his head overtly, "I've changed my mind. Take him down to the training hall. I'll decide on a more fitting punishment for him later. And have someone clean this mess up, will you?"

Crossing his hands behind his back, Kamoshida smirked, pursed his lips, and spat on Akira's corpse before spinning on his heel and sauntering out the gate with little care. The knight's followed at his heels, two of them dragging Ryuji who still looked paralyzed with fear.

The gate swung shut behind them, the pounding of metal boots growing distant until silence once more reigned. Akira's frozen fingers, still clenching the chains and manacle, slowly slackened until, with a final ringing report, the chain slid from his grip to clatter into the pool of his blood.

* * *

**A/N:**

**This chapter turned out to be absurdly long, so I had to break it up into two chapters. **

**Another long ass hiatus. I really do apologize. I want nothing more than to keep churning out chapters, but my ego refuses to let me put out anything less than my best effort for you guys. But either way, Im truly taken aback by how many people are eager for this story, and truly thankful for all your kind words.**

**Now I will very carefully gloss over the fact I left the mother of all cliffhangers on this story and say that, although this chapter was tough to write, I had a lot of fun getting through it. Dialogue is my weakest point, so getting a chance to work that muscle out is always 'fun'.**

**Also, one thing I forgot to mention in an earlier A/N, this story does take place in a slight alternate universe. Timelines of Yakuza and actual japanese history have been changed to make this crossover more plausible. Basically, in this story the japanese economic bubble happens much later in actual history- around when mobile phones were more prominent. As such, the events of Yakuza also happen later in hisotry as well.**

**This allows me to let the Yakuza and Persona timeline to run roughly concurrent to eachother. In this story Akira and other characters were alive during the economic bubble, but are still only teenagers. **

**Confusing? Probably. **

**Anyway, reviews are appreciated, and are always taken into account when I'm writing. **


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